{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/hbs/hbs15.htm","path":"neu/hbs/hbs15.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/hbs/hbs15.htm","text":"DEAR God, a mighty marvel is fallen at K\u00f3sovo!\nIn the host were Yug\u2019s nine children and their father the tenth also.\nThe mother of Yug\u2019s children she prayed God in her pain\nFor the eyes of a hawk and a swan\u2019s white wing to fly along the plain,\nTo see her nine strong children and Yug her lord beside.\nAnd what she prayed for, verily, God granted her that tide.\nGod gave her eagle eyesight and the swan\u2019s pinion white,\nAnd she found low in K\u00f3sovo her children slain in fight,\nAnd old Yug Bogdan with them, and beside them nine good spears,\nAnd on the goodly spearshafts there perched nine falcons fierce;\nRoaming about the lances the chargers nine did stray;\nAmid them were nine lions. And the steeds began to neigh,\nAnd the lions roared together, and the falcons screamed aloud;\nBut the proud heart of the mother I wot it was unbowed.\nBut the lions and the horses she took them by the brows,\nAnd the good falcons with them, and brought them to the house.\nThe wives of her strong children afar they saw her come,\nAnd calling like to cuckoos went out to lead her home.\nMoaning before the neighing steeds and the loud beasts thereby\nWept the nine noble ladies, and the hawks took up their cry.\nYet wept not that stern mother, and her heart was undismayed,\nAbout the middle of the night the steed of Damyan neighed.\nThen spake the mother to Damyan\u2019s wife:\n\u201cMy daughter, what is this?\nAnd wherefore neighs in the nighttide that dappled steed of his?\nIs he hungry for the milk-white wheat? Doth he thirst for Zvechan\u2019s wave?\u201d\nAnd the fair wife of Damyan in this wise answer gave:\n\u201cMy mother, Damyan\u2019s mother, no wheat the steed doth crave,\nNor in the darkened nighttime doth he thirst for Zvechan\u2019s wave;\nBut aye hath Damyan taught him, and bidden him abide\nTo champ his oats till midnight, thereafter forth to ride.\nNow he sorrows that his master mounts not his back this tide.\u201d\nYet wept not that stern mother, and her heart was undismayed.\nThat morn flew by two ravens, unto the shoulders red,\nUpon the blackness of their beaks the milk-white froth it shone;\nAnd they bare the hand of a hero and a golden ring thereon.\nIn the bosom of the mother, the dead hand they let fall;\nAnd unto her daughter, Damyan\u2019s wife, in a loud voice did she call:\n\u201cMy daughter, wife of Damyan, what hero\u2019s hand is this?\u201d\nAnd the daughter made her answer: \u201cOur Damyan\u2019s hand it is;\nShall I not know the ring I gave the day that we were wed?\u201d\nThe mother lifted the hero\u2019s hand, and fondled it, and said:\n\u201cO hand, who plucked thee off, and where apple-like didst thou grow?\nThou grewest in my bosom; thou wast plucked in K\u00f3sovo.\u201d\nThen swelled her heart within her, and her soul was rent in twain\nFor her children and their father that at K\u00f3sovo were slain.","title":"THE DEATH OF THE MOTHER OF THE Y\u00daGOVICHI","type":"page"}