Marina, published in , is a 2,line poem by Andrej Sladkovic. He loved Maria Pischlova, but her parents made her marry a gingerbread. Marina [Andrej Sladkovic] on *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. : List of andrej sladkovic marina pdf book. Download the andrej sladkovic marina pdf book in PDF file format for free at

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Sweet desires, desires for love I’m singing, with beauty enthusedand within this response of my very soul The whole world of mine is enclosed ; From the heights of the Tatras, she casts the lightShe flies out of the heavenly firesShe has been moving my worlds ; She’s been waving towards me from hundreds of lives: But the centre, the element, the heaven, the unity of all my beauties is her — my Marina!

As you, the Tatras, when upon mountains you sladkovif your golden cloud: As you, the Divine Flames up above. Should my feelings pour over the hearts living in the Tatras ; Should the echoes of mine be stealthily blown into future times: Embrace the picture of my Marina with love for sacred reliquia ; He, who’s been singing the history of beautywas not caught by sladlovic rosemaries of Ladahe loves the mwrina of the Universes.

Love is an idol gladly worshipped. Also a slave on the wild banks of Ganges. Is watching it, his beard hanging down: There she appears in the eyes of Madonna.

There it is created anrdej Canova’s chisel. There it flashes from Parom’s fist. There she rages in the outpours of the sea. Do not sing about praising the beauty.

Andrej Sládkovič

Should the angel of the maid not blow the earthly chaff off you, that you’ve been praising higher than a slice of bread! Should the fame not astonish you, that shines from my Marina’s face: You will destroy both the world and yourself! T he bell of those echoes, not yet unspelled amdrej an elephant out of a mosquitothe fifth echo of mighty voicesa beggar on the threshold of a sovereign!

From the tower tolls the bell: For whom it tolls?

For someone’s sad andren To praise the Gospodin? To warn agains a fierce fire? Calling closer the Judgment Day, in which the delusional world of the worlds will perish. Until your last voice is killed on the rocks of Eternityand the dying voices will toll.

The nature is sadkovic, and through the Heavens. A nightly, sad hour tollsand the child of the times falls into sleep, but the eternal son of non-dying casts the sleep out of the mortal eyesand in the eternal dawn of the afterglow flies through the holy field of visions.

Unshade my world, my bright world puts the clouds to shame! Even if you shed your very last tearyou remain blindmy eyes! The shades of fates; What is undisclosed to the eyesFamily of delusions; well, just lie! High above you, into the lights of lights, laws of lightningsand above the dead curtain of the nature the eye of my soul has flown!

My feet, do not stand! Walk the mountains towards the summonings of love genii! Well, my feet are the family of the Earth: So stand, you bearers of the bones!

Andrej Sladkovic Marina Pdf Stáhnout PDF – Free E-Book Download

But you, the messenger of the youthful soulyour flight will scatter the veils of cloudsmy heart, you go, for you have wings!

But, sadly, the world bell tolls the wickedness into the divine games and harmonies: Cherish me into sleep, you wild night! For it is the spell of human doomthat it loves its illusions and its land: But such is the fate of human souls. The blooming willow trees breathe.


Then she leans her mariba limbs to the seatand the lovely string rings clearlyher voice moves among the tones: The world robs you off your rich flashes of your higher fameand in the dust of its dark robe it will tread down your heavenly feel! The eye is flooded with tears. The reason why I cry is that this land. The late chords were still swirling with the light in a spacious roomthe fingers of a rounded palm have covered the rosy love in the cheek: And the right hand speaks swiftly: In your veins, I have seenthat there is another heart, courting: Have I given you the right?

Don’t you know, my dear friend, that your mistress has allowed me to dwell in your neighborhood? And the heart goes again: You are obliged to be a friend of mine; you were not ordained the mistress. She told you to greet me three times, and not to start such quarrels and fights with me, that’s what she ordered you. Needle, let the raven-black hair downdon’t tie their free flight with silver ; You, golden chain, have frowned the snow flower of the lilies of the neck ; you, diamond of the finger, why do you shinewhere the world of sparks is created by the eye?

Needle, remain a pleasant memory of the sharp love that has hurt me ; chain, tie those sorrows of the throatyou, golden image of unity ; diamond, when the night enters the worldsyou shine instead of her eyes for me ; you, cold garnet, cool down those angersflaming against me in the breasts of beloved woman ; wristbands of gold, why marija she put you downwhen she gave her freedom to a slave!

You, serious night, you silent nightyou queen of heavenly dreams! You hear a nightingale sighing the very sorrows of his tones: There Andrj will lean towards her soultowards the lands loved by the heartwhen it darkens the flash of the starry eyes! And then I take off to my tiny flight towards the worlds of the lily breastsupon their valleys I shall rest and I want to be looking at the crystalsthat have remained in the golden flashes up in the heights of the starry eyes.

The time should have already judged, after the day, the match with the nightly clouds ; soothsayers screaming about the morning sladkovkc their perches through their hundredfold throats: Mother nature with her golden dawn has come to her window!

I wipe my eyes, come a bit closer and what has appeared to my eyes? I see the maiden in the window: Where she laid down her beautiful limbs. Her head is resting on her soft hand, from her breasts, magically folded runs her dress, as white as the sladkofic moon: I gave no credit to my very eyesis it delusion, or euphemisms is somebody putting glasses on my nose?

Who would have thought that the god of love. And on her other cheek that envied. Like orphans would lament in their sorrows crying tears on their father’s grave: Do they perhaps envy the long ones that they see lying around.

The night stole their joyswhen her eyes, lovely mirrors to themwere veiled despite their desires. And how he laughed at their sorrows Sneer — who knows where it comes from? Maybe he was blowing satire in dreams on some germanized maid ; or was it sleeping emotion some secret sight of nice beauties of the land that has lured him to the red lips: Nonetheless, to the land of delusional dreams he strayedpoor man, not knowing the way to paradisethis sneer has found its way.


And who will defeat these beautieswhen they start flaming with the whole life? But you alone, please explain me this riddle: Don’t you sleep with your eyes closed in the dark?

Don’t you sleep when a dream is hugging you? Do you dream the eternal dream of youth? A statue of marble starts movingwhen I cry with such a voice upon it!

Can the beauty of a star be begged by a weak murmur of earthly voice on the desert of the world? But tell me, does lightning not beg the morning star. Terrible windstorms are flying above the youthful skies of mine ; My eyes have met the dreamhave blown out the lights at their gates ; and in front of the eyes of non-sleeping emotionswith a terrible, uncovered appearance wild images have defiled: Suddenly, the spirit of hope emerges in the angelic light of your body — and the beasts stopped threatening.

A delusional flash, an unfaithful son of unhappy daysmerciful enemy of the poora distant shade of happy hours: Rip my image out of memorykill every motion of loveTear apart the flowers of my emotionscast them into the deepest forgettingyou may even cancel the pale shades of these hymns, dear! And even if you ran into the worldseven if you chased me out of the worldstemples of love will stand everywhere! My silent spirit is not afraid of other worldsit doesn’t fear the volcanic smokesnor does it fear of bloody armorclean consciousness, flame of the worlds — peacefully awaits on the day of thundersmy peace will not perish in grave: But my whole world can be torn down by terrible shots of a single wordcoming out of your mouth: But you, my dear, flower of goodnesscould you look in the face of terrible misery burnt by flaming tears?

Could you hand a dreadful glass of. No, the power of love won’t make way to the flattering hopes of the world No, not even if the earth hid inside an abyss, it wouldn’t turn our world of love upside down: No, no evil had done me any harmWhen I have you, my dear!

Truth is what stands in my wordsthe faithful ones always share the truth: Wonderful expressions on my facemagical colors on my paintings don’t let them suffocate the faith ; in divine cradles, wonders are bornbringing divinity from heavens to ous: Beware who only sees water in the seawho does not hear the silent countrysidewho only sees rocks in rocks!

Gigantic rocks have surrounded — who knows where the power got the masses from — this great height like boulders ; and the dreads of those rocks with their terrifying night were given from our ancient grand-grand-grandparents the surname of Sitno. That mountain used to be the hell or Devil’s place to delusional pagan familiesand now, in the hungry and intense centuryit means nothing to its valleys.

Yet upon this mountain, the northern peakreligious faith comes to prayto plea the godly anger for the mountain ; the northern winds are blowing eternally into ittrying to carry it down south ; faith can move those mountains!