Where late the sweet birds sang: LXXIII

Ti sad u meni gledaš one ure - 

Kad lišće s grana ode svome kraju

I one gole od zime drhture

Ko pusti hor gde ptice ne pevaju.

U meni vidiš belog dana veče

Čije je sunce zašlo s ruba plava;

Kog će odneti crna noć što teče - 

Drugo ja smrti u kojoj sve spava.

U meni vidiš vatre plamsaj žuti

Što na pepelu leži uspomena,

Kao na odru gde će izdahnuti

Tim sagorena - čime je hranjena.

To što vidiš ljubavi moć daje,

Jer ljubiš ono što skoro nestaje.

preveo: Sima Pandurović

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.

This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.