Since Lenka left a blouse of fine linen unfinished on her loom to go to her clogs to sort tobacco in the factory, her face has changed, her eyebrows fallen, her lips tight drawn. Lenka was not born for that accursed tobacco! Tobacco-gilded poison for her breast-pink garlands. The first year passed a load lay on her heart; the second year went by sickness tore her breast. The third year the earth covered Lenka's body. At night when the moon wraps her grave in silk, the breeze above her sadly warfs sorrow: "Why was it left unwoven that blouse? The blouse was for your dowry ..." |
Otkako Lenka ostavi košula tenka lenena nedovezena na razboj i na nalomi otide tutun da redi v monopol liceto i se izmeni vegji padnaa nadolu i usti svijaa koravo. Ne beše Lenka rodena za tia pusti tutuni! Tutuni - žolti otrovi za gradi - kitki rozovi. Prva godina pomina grutka vo srceto i legna, vtora godina namina bolest ja v gradi iskina. Treta godina zemjata na Lenka pokri snagata. I nokje koga mesečko grob i so svila vieše vetričok tiho nad nea žalna i taga reeše: "Zošto mi, zošto ostana košula nedotkaena? Košula beshe darovna ..." |