Umalliq (3/3)
Chaynam qallariy punchaw apakurqa, wakin punchaukunapas chaynam karqa. Manam hatun apakuy karqachu, yanqakunallam karqa: huk yarqapin urmarurqa, chaymanta mitupipas, setupi jinataq yana mukupim qaqukururqaku, botellakunatam sarururqaku, karataqmi makin paki utaq chakin pakisqakuna, uman waqtasqakunapas karqam. Ari nirqakum kay lliw llakikunata. Wakin taytakukunaqa ñampi wañunankupaq saqisqam karqa. “Wañunmankum karqa wasipi qepañuspampas, ¡mana ñampi kaspampas!” nirqa chay willakuq, wakinta kallpanchachispan purinankupaq. Iskay kimsa wawakunam, iskay kimsa watyuqkunapas wañurqam. Taytankunañataq taytachapa munayninmi nispa jauka karqaku. “Uña wawakunamantaqa ash llakikuyllam. Maqta kaptinpas chaynallataqmi. Taytacha llakikuchun taytakuna wawanta kasarakuynin watampi chinkaripuptin. Wawakuna chaynapaq kaspanqa allinmi wañuyninqa. ¡Chayna kaptinqa llakikuyqa manam yumpay hatunchu!” willakuqa chaynata nispanmi yanaparqa. Itirikunawan umanpi watakuspanku, wakinñatqa uqu itirikunawan quyuyasqanpi churakurqaku. Wakinkunañataq makin watasqakuna. Lliumi itirikunawan pachakusqa karqa, pachankunam kuchupasqa karqa, chayna kaptinpas kusi-kusisqam ñaupaqman rirqaku. Lliw kaykuna manam imapas kanmanchu karqa sichum achka-achkakama mana yarqaymanta kaptinkuqa. Chayna kaptimpas ñaupaqmanmi rirqaku.
Huk punchawmi willakunapaq hina apakurqa.
Umalliqmi ñaupaqpi ichichkara, kallpasapa runakunapa chaupinpi. (Iskaymi mana maypi kasqan yachakurachu. runakunaqa niqku, llullakuruwanchikmi hinaspa pasakuraku nispa. Huk punchawmi chay willakuq nirqa imakunatapas chay iskay chinkaqkunamanta. Wakinkunallam iñirqa ñanpi wañusqanmanta, ichaqa manam imatapas nirqakuchu mana ima kanampaq). Wakinkunaqa suyullam qipanta qatimurqaku. Mana imallamantam hatu-hatun qaqa rikuriramurqa lliwpa ñaupaqninpi, yumpay-yumpay hatunmi karqa chaymi mana ñaupaqman huk ichiyllatapas rirqakuchu. Kallpasapasapa runakunapas sayaruspankum umalliqninta qawarqaku. Payñataqmi qichipranta juñunarispan, yuyaymanatin, umanta kumuykuspa ñaupaqman rirqa tanuwanwan waqtaspa alliqninman ichuqninman. Watawanraqmi runakunaqa iñirqaku paypi, payqa mana pitapas rikuspa nitas qawaspa karqa. Manam imapas qukurqachu chayqa, wakin runakunapas manataqmi imatapas nirqakuchu chay yachaysapa runaman. Iskay ichipay ñaupaqpim qaqa patanpiña karqa. Lliwmi manchakuyllawanña karqaku ñawinkuna allí-allinkuna kichasqa. Llapa kallpasapa runakuna hapinanpaq kachkaptin iskaita ichirispan waichikuykurqa qaqa ukuman. Qepallanmanmi hatu-hatun llakikuna, manchakuykuna, waqaykuna hapirurqa lliw runakunata.
– ¡Suyaykuychik wawkiykuna! ¿Imataq utqachiwanchik? ¿Kaynatachu rimasqanchikta qespichisunchik? Qatinanchikmi kay yachaysapa runata, payqa yachanmi ima ruwasqanta. Muspaychu kanman kikillan mana allinta ruwakunampaq. Jakuchik, ¡qatisunchik! Kayllañam chay hatu-hatun manchakuy, kayllañam harkawaqninchik. ¿Manam yachanchikchu? Ichapas qaqa tukuyllampiña taytachapa alli-allin allapa churapuwasqanchik kachkan. Chayta nispanmi willakuqa iskayta ichirispan qaqapi chinkaykurqa. Kallpasapa runakunapas qepallantam qatirqa.
Llakikuykunam karqa, waqaykunapas, nanaykunapas qaqapa sikimpi. Hukqa iñinman karqa mana pipas kausasqanta, hastawanraq allin mana imayuq lluqsinankuta, ichaqa runapa kawsayninqa mana apurawman tukuqmi. Umalliqninkuqa alli-allin quyllurniyuqmi kasqa. Huk sachapa kaspimpim warkukurusqa chaymi mana imantapas takakusqachu. Allinllam lluqsiramurqa chaymanta. Ukupim ichaqa llapa llakikuykuna, waqaykunaqa, ñakaykunapas uyarikurqa. Umalliqñataq jauka tiyakurqa upayllalla yuyaymanastin. Wakin ñakakuypaq kaqkunam paymanta piñakuyta qallaykurqaku ichaqa pay manam imatapas qukurqachu. Wakin sachapi qipariqkunapas ñakaywanmi lluqsimurqaku, wakinkum uman pakisqa achka-achka uyanpi yawarniyuqkuna, manam pipas hampisqaqa karachu umalliqpa sapaqmanta. Lliwmi piñakurqaku paywan hinaspan ñakarqakutaqmi ichaqa umalliqninku manam umallantapas huqarirqachu. ¡Upayllallam karqa, niraq yachaysapa tiyananta hina tiyakuykuspan!
Sapa punchaumi qeparirqa chaynallataq runakunapas sapapunchaumi ashllayarqa. Wakinkunaqa kutikurqakutaqmi.
Achka-achka runamanta yaqapas iskay chunka hinallallam karqa. Pisipaypaninkunapas hinallataq ñakayninkunapas uyankupi rikukurqam, yarqaymanta, pisipasqa, mana iñiyniyuq kasqantupas rikukurqam ichaqa manam pipas imatas nirqakuchu. Upayllachallam karqaku umalliqnin hina, hinallam ichiraku ñacaywan, umalliqninpas umanta ñacaywan aywirqa. Ñanpas sasa-sasataqmi karqa.
Sapa punchau ashllayaraku chunkallaña kananku kama. Llallisqa uyawanmi, piñakurqaku hinallataqmi rimakurqaku.
Manam runa hinañachu qawakurqaku, wakinkum tanuwayuqña karqaku. Wakinkunaqaa cabestrillupi makiyuqmi kunkaman watasqa karqaku. Lliu makinkunaqa watapasqam karqa, pintusqakuna. Imainam mayqintapas maqanankupaq kaptin manaña aychampi maypipas karqachu.
Hinallataqmi kallpasapa runakunapas iñiyninku suyakuynintinpiwan chinkarurqa, ichaqa hinallam puntaman rirqaku. Chaynam chay, imaynallapas wistutyarqakum ñakakustin, nanaymanta kuyuparikustin. ¿Imatawantaq ruwanmanku karqa? ¿Achka-achka ñakakuywan lliw puriskankuita saqirunankupaq?
Tutaykuymi chayaramurqa, tanuqanwan wistutyastin, qunkayllapi umalliqninta qawariptinkuqa manañan ñaupaqninpiñachu kasqa, huktawan ichiykuspankuqa qaqamanmi wichiykunmanku kara paykunapas.
– ¡Chakillay! ¡Makillay! – nispanmi uyarikurqa ñakakuyninkuna. Huk mana uyariylla rimaypas ñakarqa allin umalliqninkuta qipallanmanmi upallarurqa.
Inti lluqsiramuptinqa, chaypim tiyachkasqa umalliqninkuqa, imaynam akllasqanku punchau hina. Manam ima musuqpas kayninpi karqachu.
Willakuqmi qispirurqa qaqapa hawanman, iskayñataqmi qatira. Yawarpa pintusqan mana uyayuq qawariraku tawa wayqukunata, ichaqa chayllam karqa. Sunqunkum hatun manchakuywan huntarurqa, chay kasqankupiqa mana riqsisqa, muqusapa, rumisapam kasqa – mana mima ñanpas kasqachu. Iskay punchaw qipapim huk ñanta tarirurqaku ichaqa saqirurqakum. Umalliqninmi kaynaman pusaramurqaku.
Yuyaymanaraku lliw wañuq wawqinkunapi hinallataq ayllunkunapipas kay allí-allin purikuypi. Huk hatun llakikuy, nanaqninkunamantapas astawan hatunraq hapirurqaku. Rikurqaku lliw llactanpa chinkasqanta kikinkupa ñawinkuwan.
Willakuqmi asuykurqa umalliqman hinaspan rimayta qallaykurqa huk pisipasqa katkatatachkaq rimayninwan nanaypa huntasqan, piñasqa, suyakuynimpas chinkasqa.
– ¿Maymantaq rinchik?
Umallikqa upayllallam karqa.
– ¿Maymantaq pusawankiku hinallataq maymanmi aparamuwankiku? Makikipim churakuraniku lliu aylluntinkuna hinaspa qatiraykiku, wasinchikunata qepapi saqirispa, taytaykunapa maypim pampakusqanta saqirispa, qispikuyta suyakuspa wak chaki allpamanta. Ichaqa astawanmi waklirachiwankiku. Iskay pachak ayllukunam qipaykipi karqa ¡kunan qawariy haykallañan kachkan!
– ¿Manachu lliw kaypi kanku? – umallikqa rimarirqa mana umanta huqarispa.
– ¿Imaynatataq chayta tapukuwaq? ¡Umaykita huqariy hinaspa qaway! ¡Yupaychay haykaraqmi qipariniku kay ñakay rinapi! ¡Qaway imayna kasqaykuta! Allinraqmi karqa wañuyniyku kayna kanaykumantaqa.
– ¡Manam rikuyta atinichu!
– ¿Imaynampi?
– Ñausam kani.
Huk hatun upallay.
– ¿Kay rinapichu rikukuynikita wischururanki?
– ¡Ñausam paqarimurqani!
Kimsankum umanta kumuykurqa ñakaywan.
Aparkilla wayram wayraykamurqa lliw urqukunapi, sachapa rapinkunata wichichistin. Huk ruyru puyum lliw muqukunapa muyuriqninpi hinallataq chiri wayrapi kuyuchirqa ankapa rapranta. Huk millaypaq chikchim qaparirqa. Intipas puyupa qipampim chinkaykurqa, kaykunañataq ruyru kasqa hinallataq pasakuchkasqa apuraullaman.
Kimsanku qawanakurqaku ancha-ancha mancharisqa.
– ¿Maimantaq kunan risunchik? – rimapakurqa piñasqa niq.
– ¡Manam yachanchikchu!
Belgradopiñataq, 1901
“Radoje Domanović” llamkaypas, rinasimimantikraqra Mallcco Melaneo qenallataq Mallcco Zenon, 2020
Umalliq (2/3)
Ari, llakikuypaqmi kara chay achka-achka runakuna, wasinkunata saqerispan, paqarimusqan llaqtankuta queparispan, maypin tantamamannkunapa pampasqa kasqanta, uyankupas llakisqam, intipa rupasqam. Achka llamkaisapakunapallakikuymi rikukurqa paykunapi. Hina chayllapitaqmi rikukurqa suyakuininkuta ashlla llakikuywan. Achka machu runakunapa sipu uyanmanta wiqi wichimurqa, pikunam llakirispan, umantapas aywirispahuk millay musyaywan. Paykunaqa qeparirqaku rumikunapa chaupimpi wañuyta munaspanmi, mana maskayta allin allpata munaspa. Achka warmikunam llakikuywan saqinakurqaku pampakuyninkunamanta.
Qarikunaqa kalpanchakusqa hinam qaparimurqaku – ¿Yarqaymanta wañuyta munankichikraqchu kay millay allpapi, kay chukllapi yachaspa? Chaymi ichaqa, atipaspankuqa lliw millay allpankunata, tunisqa wasinkunata apakunmankum karqa.
Uyarikuqmi lliw runakunapa qaparisqan, qarikuna imaynam warmikuna puriysikim karqaku. Wawakunam mamankupa wasampi waqaq, uywakunapas puriysikim karqaku, manam yumpay achka wakakunaqa karachu, huk uña kaypi, huk wakpi hinallam karqa, chaymanta karqataqmi huk yana chukchasapa jamelgo hatun humayuq hinallataq chakinpas, kaypa hawanpim lata mastakunata, wayqakunata, iskay sakutawan karunapa hawanpi, chaynapim uywaqa yanqallaña kuyuriq, chaynaña kachkaspampas hauchityamuchkaqmi. Wakin runakunañataqmi asnunman qipichimuchkaraku, warmakunañataq allqunkuta waskawan chutamuchkaraku waqastin, qayakustin, llakikustin, anyakustin – lliwmi karka. Asnupas hauchityaqmi imaynallampipas. Ichaqa umalliqninku manam nirachu, mana imapas qukuq jina. ¡Chiqap yachaysapa runa!
Payqa tiyakuykurqa upayllalla yuyaymanastin, umanpas kumuykusqa, imaynallampim tuqaq pampaman, chayllam chay karqa. Ichaqa upayllalla kasqampim, astawanraq riqsikuynin wiñarqa, hayka hatunmi kara ninamanpas utaq yakumanpas payrayku pawaykunampaq pay rayku. Uyarikuqmi kay rimay:
– Kusi-kusisqam kananchik allin runa tarisqanchikmanta. Mana payniyuq ñaupaqman rispaqa, ¡Taytacha ama munachunchu¡chinkaruchwanmi kara. Payqa chiqap yachayniyuqmi, ¡nisayki! Upayllallam kachkan. ¡manaraqmi imatapas ninchu! – hukmi nirqa chaynata umalliqta hatunyaywan qawarispa.
– ¿Imatataq ninman pay? Pipas yumpayta rimaqqa manam yumpaytachu yuyaymanan. Huk yachaysapa, ¡chiqapmi pay! Payqa yuyaymallanmi mana imata nispa, – hukpas nirqa chaynata umalliqta hatunyaywan qawaspa.
– ¡Sasam achka runakuna pusay! Lliu yuyaymanaynintam huñunan achka llamkayninman hina, – nirqañataq yapamanta ñaupaq rimaq runa.
Ña puriytaqallarinankupaq kaptin, paykunaqa suyarakuraqmi ichaya pipas quepariqmanta huanakuq kuskanchawachwan nispa, ichaqa manam pipas karachu, chaiman hinam manaña queparirakuchu.
– ¿Manachu pasakuchwanña? – tapuykurqaku umalliqta.
Payñataqmi mana imatapas rimarispan sayarirurqa.
Llapa kalpanchakusqa runakunam huñunakururaku paypa muyuriqninman, ima manchaypas kaptin yanapakunankupaq.
Umallikqa, qichipranta juñunarispan, amanpas kumuykusqa, iskay kimsata ichirirqa, tulanta ñaupaqman tiyatichimuspa. Lliw runakunañataqmi paypa qepanpi kuyurirqaku hinaspan qaparimurqaku kay nispa: “¡Unay wata kausachun umalliqninchik!” payñataqmi iskay kimsa ichiytawan quspa perqaman chayarurqa jinaspanmi sayarurqa, jinallataqmi lliw qatiqninkunapas. Hukta qepaman ichiramuspanmi tulanwan perqata waqtayta qallaykura iskay kimcakama.
– ¿Imatataq ruwanaykuta munanki? – tapukurqaku.
Payñataqmi mana imatapas nirqachu.
– ¿Imatataq ruwachwanchik? ¡Pirqata tunisun! ¡Chaytam ruwasunchik! ¿Manachu rikunkichik tulanwan ima ruwananchikpaq qawachiwasqanchikta? – Qaparimurqaku lliw umalliqpa muyuriqninpi kaqkuna.
– ¡Huk punkum kachkan! ¡Huk punkum kachkan! – Qaparimurqaku warmakunañataq ñaupaqninpi punkuta rikuspanku.
– Shh, warmakuna, ¡upallaychik!
– Taytacha yanapawasunchik. ¿Imam kaypi apakun? – iskay kimsa warmikunam cruschakurqaku.
– ¡Ama rimariychikchu! Payqa yachanmi ima ruwasqanta. ¡Perqata tuniychik!
Huk qawayllapim perqaqa tunisqaña carqa, manapas chaypi kanmanchu hina.
Pachak ima ichiyllataraq riruprinkum umalliq sayarurqa huk kichkasapa sachawan tuparuspa.
Sasa-sasatam chaymanta lluqsiramurqa hinaspanmi tanuwanwan waqtarqa lliw muyuriqninkunapi mana kuyurispa.
– ¿Imataq kunan apakun? – qaparimuraku qepapi kaqkuna.
– ¡Sachata kuchuychik! – qaparimurqa umalliqpa muyuriqninpi caq runa.
– ¡Wakpim kachkan ñanqa, kichkasapa sachapa qipampi! ¡Wakpim! – qaparimurqakum warmakuna qepapi kaq runakunantinpiwan.
– ¡Wakpim kachkan ñanqa! ¡Wakpim kachkan ñanqa! – asikurqaku umalliqpa muyuriqninpi kaq runakuna, piñasqa yachapyaspan. – ¿Imaynatataq ñuqanchik ñausa runkuna yachayta atichwanchik mayman pusawasqanchikta? Manam lliwchu kamachikuyta atinchik. Umalliqninchikme yachan mayqinmi allin ñan kasqanta. ¡Kichkasapa sachata kuchuychik!
Utqayllamanmi ñanta kicharaku.
– Ananaw, – kichakawan makimpi tupqikuruqmi qaparimurqa huk, yana mukupa kichkanwan tupqikuqpas.
– Wawqiykun, manam imatapas tariyta atichwanchu mana asllatapas kallpanchakuspaqa– nirqa llapanmanta kallpasapa kaq.
Sasa-sasatam chimparurqaku chay sachata, lliw ñaupamanmi rirqaku.
Ashllata yanqa puririspankum, achka kullukunawan tuparuraku, kaykunatapas kuchuman wikutispankum ñaupaqman rirqaku.
Kay qallariy punchaupiqa ashllatam puririrqaku kichkikuna kaptin. Lliw kaikuna ashlla mikuywan, wakinkunaqa chaki tantallatam ashlla kisillowan apasqaku yarqaynin tiyachinampaq. Wakinkunapaqa manam imampas kasqachu. Puquy killa kasqan raykullañam sachakunapi mikuykunata tarirqaku wakpi kaypi.
Chaynam, qallariy punchawpi ashllata puriruspankupas, ancha pisipasqa hinam karqaku. Manam karqachu ima manchakuypas. Kayna hatunkunata ruwasqaqa, taksachakunaqa mana ima hinallam: warmipa ñawimpim huk kichka winakurura, uqu lachapawanmi ñawin hawanman churakurqa; warmañataqmi kulluman takakuruspan wistuyarurqa; huk taytakuñataqmi yana mukupa tullunwan wichiykuspan muqunta takakururqa, ñutusqacibuyllawan wataruptinkum kalpanchakuspan hawka purirqa tanuanwan yanapakuspan, umalliqpa qipampim wistutyamurqa. (Chiqap kananpaqmi, taytakuqa muqunmantaqa llullakuchkanmi nispa, yanqam nichkan kutimuyta munaspallan.) lliwyupaymi kichkawan tupqisqakunaqa rikurirurqa, wakin makinkupi wakinñataq uyanpi. Qarikunaqa manam pisakurqakuchu, warmikunañataqmi ichaqa lluqsimusqankumantapas wanakurqaku, warmakunañataq waqakurqa mana imapaq chay ruwasqankuta, allin alpaman risqankuta mana yachapan.
Lliw runapa kusikuyninpaqa, manam imapas hapirachu umalliqninta. Chiqapmi, allin nisqaqa payqa allin waqaychasqam carqa. Hinallapas kay runaqa allin quyllurniyuqmi karqa. Chay qallariy tuta, lliwmi mañakurqaku taytachataallinlla purisqankumanta mana ima llakikuyniyuq kasqanmantawan, hinallataqmi allinlla umalliqnin kasqanmanta. Chaymanta, huk kalpanchasqa runa rimarirqa, uyanmi yana mukupa kichkawan tupqipasqa kasqa, runaqa manam imapas qukurqachu.
– Waukiykuna, – qallarirqa – huk allí-allin puriymi quepanchikpi qepariramunun. Taytanchik rayku. Sasam ñanninchik, hastawanmi ñuqanchikqa kallpanchakunanchik tukunankama, lliwmi yachanchik allí-allin kusikuyman kay ñan pusawasqanchikta. Llapa atipaq Tayta waqaychachun umalliqninchikta lliw millaykunamanta allin kayman pusawananchikpaq.
– ¡Ñawiytam chinkarusak paqarin kunan punchaw hina kaptinqa! – huk warmim nirqa, piñasqa.
– ¡Ananaw, chakillay! – qaparimurqa taytakupas, ñaupaq warmipa rimamusqanwan.
Warmakunaqa hinallam waqakurqaku, mamankunañataq ñaka-ñakaywan upallachirqa willakuq runa rimamunampaq.
– Ari, ñawikitam chinkarunki, – piñakurqa – ¡Iskaynintapas! Iskaynin ñawiki chinkasqayki manam yumpay llaquichu allin allpa rayku kaptinqa. ¡Mana manchakuyniyuq! ¿Manachu yuyanqui wawaykikunapa allin kayninta? ¡Hina lliwninchikmanta chawpillapas wañuchun! ¿Ima qukuwanchik? ¿Imataq huk ñawi? ¿Imapaqtaq allin, huk allin kusikuyman pusawaptinchik? ¿Saqichwanchu chaykunata ñawillayki rayku, taytakupa chakin rayku?
– ¡Llullakuchkanmi! ¡Taytakuqa llullakuchkanmi! Payqa kutinan raykullam llullakuchkan – chayna rimaykunam uyarikurqa lliwmanta.
– Wawqiykuna, pipas mana ñaupaqman riy munaqa, – nirqa yapamanta chay willakuq – Saqisunchik pipas kutikuy munaqtaqa, yanqam lliwpi manchakuyta tarpunqa. ¡Ñuqaqa umalliqniytam qatisaq kausanaykama!
Umallikqa upayllallam karqa.
Lliwmi qawarqa rimapakuspanku.
– ¡Yuyaymanaynimpim kachkan!
– ¡Huk yachaysapa runa!
– ¡Qawaychik urkunta!
– ¡Wiñaypim quechiprantam huñuchkan!
– ¡Piñasqa!
– ¡Kalpanchasqa runam! Qawakunmi runa kayninpi.
– ¡Yapamanta niwaqchu! pirqakuna, kullukuna, kichkakuna – ñantam kicharikunanchik imapas chaupinta. Yumpaytam tanuwanta waqtan, mana imata rimariptinmi yachanayki yuyaymanasqanta.
Umalliq (1/3)
– Wawqi paniykuna, uyarirunim lliw rimasqaykichikta, chayman hina kunanmañakusaykichik uyariwanaykichikt. Lliw rimasqaykichikuna mana ima chaniyuqmi hina kay mana kausayniyuq allpapi qipariptinchiqa. Manam imapas wiñayta atimurachu kay aqu allpapi ni kay rumipipas, nitaq watapi ancha para kaptinpas, astawanñan kunan mana paramuptin mana rikusqanchik muchuyta rikunchik. ¿Haykakamataq huñunakusunchik kayna yanqa rimanapaq? Uywanchikuna wañuchkan mikuymanta qipallanmanmi wañusunchik yarqaymanta lliw wawantinkuna. Tarinachikmi huk allin kausayta, ñuqamantaqa pasakuyninchikchusmi kanman kay mana kausayniyuq allpamanta huk allin pacha kausaysapa allpaman, manan hina kaynaqa kausayta atichwanchu.
Chaynatam huk runa chay mana allin kausayniyuq llaqtapi yachaq rimarqa huk huñunakuypi. Maypi haykapi chay karqa, manam imata qukuwanchikchu ñuqata ni qamkunatapas, qipa watapi apakusqanmi ichaqa. Yuyaymanqmi kani kay hullakuymanta sirtu kasqanta, as-asllamata karuncharqani chay mana munay yuyaychayta. Kunanqa sinchitañam iñini, chayman hinan willakusaq chiqampi maypipas, chaypipas apakusqanta, manam kayqa yanqa ñuqapa rimakusqaychu.
Lliw uyariqkunam, uyankunapas kaspiyasqa, qawayninkunapas chinkasqa, yaqapas mana uyanasqakuna, makinkunapas watakuynimpa urampi yaqapas kausarimuq hinam karqa chay runa alli alinta rimaramuptin. Sapakaman yuyaymachkarqa suma sumaq allpamantapas rimachkanman hina, maypim sasa sasa tarpukusqamanta alli allin huñuy kanman hina.
– ¡Ari! ¡Chaynam chay! – chaynatam pisipasqa rimapakurqaku lliw chaypi kaqkuna.
– ¿Kay nisqayki kayllapichu ka…chkan…? – chayna rimapakuymi uyarikaramurqa kuchumanta.
– ¡Wawqiykuna! –qallarirqa rimayta alli allin uyarikuqta. Uyarinanchikmi kay niwasqanchikta kunanpunilla, manam kaynaqa kayta atichwanchu astawan qipamanqa. Sinchitam llamkarunchik chayman hina pisiparunchik astawan yanqam karqa. Ñawikunata tarpuranchik yanqa, kay kanman kara mikunanchikpaq, untay chayaramuspa lliw tarpukusqanchikta apakurqa allpantinta karu kuchuman rumillataña saqiykuspan. ¿Quiparichwanchikchu wiñaypaq llamkastin achikyaqmanta tutaykunankama hinalla yarqasqa, yakunayasqa, qalalla, qala chaki kanapaq? Lluqsinanchikmi allí-allin allpa maskaq, chaypim ichaqa achkata juñusunchik sinchita llamkasqanchikman jina.
– ¡Jakuchik! ¡Jakuchik kunanpunilla, kayqa manam allinñachu kawsananchikpaq!
Runakunaqa lliw sayariruspan pasakurqaku, mana mayman risqantra yuyaymanaspa.
– ¡Suyaykuychik, wawqiykuna! ¿Maymanmi rinkichik? – ñaupaq rimaq runa chaynata rimariramurqa – Ari, rinanchikmi, astawan manam chaynatachu. Yachananchikmi mayman risqanchikta. Mana chaypaqa tukuruchwanchik astawanmi qispikunanchikmanta. Ñuqa yuyarichikichikman hukumalliqta akllanapaq
– ¡Akllasunchik! Akllasunchik pitapas kunanpuni, – uyarikurqa lliw kuchukunapi.
Rimanakuyqa yaqa-yaqañan maqanakuymanpa chayarqa. Lliwmi rimaqku ichaqa manam pipas uyariqchu nitaq uyariytapas atirqakuchu, Juñunakuytam qallaykurqaku muntu-muntunpi, kikillanpaq rimapakuspanku chaymantapas rakinakurqaku. Iska-iskaymanta hapinakurqaku makimanta, rimaspanku, imatapas mallichkanmanku hina, makinkumanta chutanakurqaku upallanankupaq, chaymantam huñunakurqaku hina rimastinraq.
– ¡Wawqiykuna! – qunkaymanta huk runa sinchita rimaramuspan wakinkunata upallarachirqa. – manan chaynaqa chayayta atichwanchu allin rimanakuyman. Lliw rimachkanku, ichaqa manam pipas uyarinchu. ¡Akllasunchik huk umalliqta! ¿Pitataq llapanchikmanta akllachwanchik? ¿Pitaq llapanchikmanta ancha purikuq, lliw ñankunatapas riqsiq? Lliwmi riqsinakunchik allinta, astawa manam ñuqaqa umalliq kaymanchu nitaq churiykunapas. Ari, niwaychik ¿Pitaq riqsin wak purikuqta, ñan huklawnimpi, llantupi kunan achikyaqmanta tiyakuqta?
Lliwmi upallarurqa, jinallataqmi muyurirurqaku mana riqsisqapa tiasqanpaman, allia-allinta qawarqaku umanmanta chaki tukuqninkama.
Chay purikuqmi kasqa, kallpayllampi, uyanpas amsalla rikukuq sapranpiwan hatun chukchanrayku, tiyakuspan upallalla ñaupaqta jina, yuyaymanaspan, tulanta waqtaspa waqtaspa.
– Chisipas kay jina runallatam rikurani huy maqtachapiwan, hapinakusqam uraykamuchkarqaku ñannintakama. Chisitutamanmi maqtachaqa pasakurqa llactamanta, wak runañataqmi qiparirqa kaypi.
– Wawkiykuna, qunkasunchik kaykunata mana quiparinapaq. Pipas kachun, karumantam hamurqa astawan ñuqanchik mana riqsinchikchu, paymi ichaqa riqsin allin ñankunata pusawananchikpaq. Ñuqaqa niyman, wak runaqa allin yachaysapam, mana chayna kaspanqamana wakpi manam tiyachkanmanchu upayllala yuyaymanastin, wakin hina kaspaqa lliu yachaqmasinchikkunawanmi rimakuchkanman, payqa tiyakurqa wakpi sapallan mana imata rimarispan.
– Ari, wak runaqa upayllalla tiyakuchkan imapipas yuyaymanaspanmi. Manam hukqa kanmanchu. – chaynallatam niraku wakinkunapas, qipallanmanmi yapamanta runataqa qaway-qawaraku. Sapakamam tariruska chay runapa allin kayninta, kaywan rikukurqa runapa yachaysapa kasqanta.
Manam yumpaytachu quiparirqaku rimaspanku, chayna kaspam lliw rimanakuykuspa nirqaku purikuq runata tapunankupaq – kayqa rikchakapurqaku taytachapa kachamusqan hina paykunata pusananpaq huk allin allpaman. Paymi umalliqnin kanman, paykunañataq uyarinmanku lliw ima nisqanta mana imata nispa.
Akllaruraku chunka runakunata paykunamanta chay mana riqsisqa runaman rispa rimanakusqankuta ninampaq. Kay chunka runakunam karqa chay runa imaynam yarqaypi kawsasqankuta rikunampaq, chaymanta umalliqnin kanampaq.
Chayman hina chay chunka runakuna rispan qunqurakurqaku. Hukninkaq runam rimayta qallarirqa chay mana allin allpamanta, chaqui watakunamanta, yaqaypi kawsasqankunamanta. Tukurqa kayman jina:
– Kaykuna raykum kaymanta pasakuyta munaniku lliw wasinchikunata, allpanchikunata saquirispa huk allin llaqtapi yachanapaq. Ali kaynapi kachkaptiykum, taytachapa ñuqaykuman kachamusqan hina qam rikuriramunki – Qam, yachaysapa mana riqsisqa – Qanmi pusawankiku, kay muchuymanta hurquwankiku. Lliw kaypi yachaqkunapa sutimpi mañakuykiku umalliqniyku kanaykipaq. Maypas risqaykimanmi qatisaykiku. Riqsinkim ñankunata jinallataqmi paqarimuranki huk allin kusi llactapi. Uyarisaykikum y kasukusaykikum lliw nisqaykita. Mana riqsisqa yachaysapa ¿Ari niwakchu lliw ayakunata qispichiyta? ¿Umalliqniyku kawaqchu?
Lliw kay mañakusqampi, yachaysapa runaqa manam umallantapas huqarirqachu. imaynam tarisqanku hina chaynallam karqa. Uman kumuykusqa, qichipran juñunasqa manam imatapas rimarirqachu. Tulallantam waktarqa pampapan yuyaymanaspa. Rimayta tukuruptinkum, rimariramurqa sinchita, allillamanta mana cuyurispa:
– ¡Arii!
–Chayna kaptinqa, ¿atiymankuchu qanwan riyta huk allin allpa mascaq?
– ¡Ari, atinkichikmi! – nirqa mana umanta huqarimuspa.
Lliw runakunam kusikurqa chay runapanisqanwan, ichaqa chay runa manam imatapas nirqachu.
Chay chunka runakuna nirqaku lliw runakunaman mana riqsisqa runapa ari nisqanta, yaparakutaqmi chay yachaysapa kasqanta.
– Payqa manam kuyurirapaschu, umallantapas huqariqachu rimapayaqninkunata qawarinampaq, upayllallam tiyakurqa yuyaymanastin, lliw nisqanchikunata uyariruspan, tawa rimayllatam rimariramurqa.
– ¡Chiqapmi yachaysapa! – qaparirqaku kusisqa lliwmanta, taytacham kachamurqa angelta hina lliw qispichiwananchikpaq nispa. Lliwmi sinchita iñiraku qispikunankutaqa umalliqninta qatirispa riptinkuqa, pim mana mancharispa kaqtaqa. Chaynayam paqarintinman achikyaywan pasakunankupaqmi rimanakurqaku.
Paqarintinmanmi, lliw karu-karuman riy munaq runakuna huñunakururaku. Iskay pachakmantapas astawanraqmi ayllukunam rirqaku, huk iskayllam quiparirqa chay machu llaqta qawanankupaq.
Mayqin hina serbio turupa yuyaymananan
Achka mana iñinapaq hinakunam apakun kay pachapi hinataq llaqtanchikñataq kachkan, imaynam achkakuna ninku, tasnustin mana iñinakunawan ancha achkan kasqanmi manañam mana iñinapaq hinañachu. Kanmi kaypi yumpay munaysapakuna runakuna mana yuyaymanaqkuna, ichapas huk raykupas, mayqinpas chakra turu hina mana wakin serbio turumanta riqsipas, yuyaymanayta qallaykurqa. Taytachallam yachan imatan ruwarqa kay yuyaysapa uywa kay mana atiyta ruwananpaq, hastawan Serbiapi kay ruwaykuna mana llintam apamuq. Chayna kaptinqa nichwanchikmi kay llakikuypaq mana huchajuq turumamta, manam yacharachu lliw kay ruwasqankuna llaqtanpi manam ima chaniyuq kasqanta, chayna kaptinmi churasunchik mana ima chaniyuqta. Ichaqa hinallaraqmi mana yachasqa karqa imaynampim huk turupa yuyaymanay atisqan, manam imapas karachu, nitaq yachachiqpas utaq apupaschu astawan manam turukunapa huñunakuynimpichu akllasqa karqa manataqmi senadortaqchu karqa. Ichapas haykapllapas yuyaymanarqa turukunapa llaqtan ministron kaypi, ichallapas yachaspaqa, manam yuyaymanayta qallariyllapas kanmanchu karqa, allin ministrukuna wakin kusi suyumanta hina, llaqtanchikpas manataqmi yumpay allinchu kaykunapi. Tukuypiqa, ¿imataq qukuwanchik imaynampim huk serbio turu runakunapa ruwanan saqisqanta pay ruwarqa? Ichapas payka yanqallamantapas yuyaymanayta qallaykurqa.
Chayna kaptinqa, ¿imayna turutaq kay? Wakin turu hinam, imaynam zoologia nisqan yachachiwanchik, huk umayuq, aychayuq chakintinkuna imaynam wakin turukuna hina; payka carreta chutaqmi, qura mikuqmi, kachi llaqwaq, qapariqmi. Sivoñam sutin, qusni turum.
Kaynatam yuyaymanayta qallaykurqa. Huk punchaumi turuyuq yuntaman watarqaku Galoña wauwintawan, qipirqa suwasqa chaqlla carretapi hinaspa llactaman aparqa rantikunapaq. Chayraqllapas llaqtaman yaykuruspanmi, chaqllacunata rantikurura hinaspa kacharirqa Sivoñata wawqintawan, watasqayuntaman watasqantañataqmi sawaykurqa, paykunapa ñaupaqninmanmi qurakunata wischuykurqa hinaspa upiana wasiman upyaq yaykurqa. Huk raymi kasqa llaqtapi chay punchaw, chaynapim runakuna, warmikuna hinallataq warmakuna karqa lliw muyuriqpi. Galoñaqa mana yachayninwanmi turukunapa waupimpi riqsisqa karqa, manam imatapas yumpaytaqa rikurqachu; ichaqa mikuyninpim karqa, saksanankamam mikurqa, qaparimurqa kusikuymanta hinaspa puñukuykurqa. Lliw puriq runakuna manam paipa ima qukuyninchu karqa, payqa hawka-hawkam puñurqa (llakikuypaqmi mana runa kasqan, lliw chaykunawan munaysapa kanampaq). Ichaqa Sivoñaqa manam huk kachuyllatapas atirqachu. Ñaupaq qawak ñawiyuq hinallataq llakisqa uyayuq, qawayllapim rikukurqa yuyaymanaq llampu sunqulla kasqanta. Llapa Serbio runakunaqa waqtantam purirqa, hatunyasqa punta allí-allin kasqankumanta, sutinmanta, llaqtanmanta, kay hatunkayqa rikukun imayna kasqanpi hinallataq purisqankunapim. Sivoñaqa kaykunatam qawarqa hinaspanmi yanqallamanta ayan llakisqa, nanasqa churakurqa chay yanqakunawan hinaspan wichiykurqa llakiman, qaparimurqa llaqui-nanaymanta wiqinpas ñawinmanta lluqsimustin. Hatu-atun nanaymanta Sivoñaqa yuyaymanayta qallaykurqa:
– ¿Imamantataq amuy wawqintinkuna hatunyasqa kachkanku? ¿Imaynampitaq purinku umanpas hanayman qawastinqaq hinaspa ñuqaykuta qawawanku imatapas hina? Llaqtankumanta hatunyasqa kanku, hatunyasqa kay Serbia llaqtapi paqarimusqankumanta. Mamaypas kay Serbia llactapim paqarichumuwarqa hinaspa Serbiaqa mana ñuqapa paqarimusqay llaqtallaychu hinataq taytaykunapawanmi hinallataq paykunapa hina, kay llaqtaman hamusqakuna ñaupaq karu eslava llaqtamanta. Chayna kaptimpas manam mayqillanchik turukunamanta hatunyasqachu karanchik chaymanta, hanayman allin llasaq qipi apanallamantam hatunyasqa kanchik, kanan punchawkama, manam huk turu, alemán turuta nirqachu: imata munanki ñuqamanta, serbio turum kani, ñuqapa yachasqayqa hatunyasqa Serbia suyum, lliw taytaykunam kaypi paqarimurqa, kayllapitaqmi pampakurqakupas. Taytacha qespichiwasun, manam hatunkayta musiaranikuchu chaymanta, manataqmi umaykupipas apakurachu, chaymantapas hatunkay hinaraqmi karaku.
Pisipasqa kay yuyaymanakunawan, llakisqam turuqa umanta aywirqa, kunkanpi kampanapas tilinyamurqa, yugunpas qapapaparqam. Galoñañataq ñawinta kicharispa, wawqinta qawarispan muuu nirqa:
– ¡Yapamanta kachkanqi hay asichikuqnikiwa! mikuy, mana yachaq, wirayay, chaki waqtanllaykitapas qaway; yuyaymanay allin kaptinqa, llapa runakuna manam ñuqanchikmanchu turukunamanchu saqiwachwan kara. ¡manam ñuqanchiqa allin quyllurniyuqchu achwanchik qarqa!
Sivoñaqa llakikuywanmi wawqinta qawarirqa, muyurirqa paymanta karuman hinaspa yapamanta winakururqa yuyaymanayninpi.
– Paykunaqa hatunyanku qipa hatun kausayninkumanta. Kanmi Kosovo allpanku, Kosovopi maqanakusqanku. Hatunsu, ¿manachu taytaykuna carretata qipirqa mikuyta hinaspa armakunatapiwan chaykunapi? Mana ñuqayku kaptiykuqa, kikin runakunam ruwanmanku karqa. Kachkantaqmi turkukunawan maqanakuskanku, chaypas ruwasqanpas hatunsu, ichaqa ¿pikunataq chaypi karqa? ¿Karqakuchu kay tullu uma, ñauchirayak chuñuyuq hatunrayastin chay maqanakuypi manaraq ñuqa kachkaptiy, paykunapas qallariqkuna kanman hina? Hamuy, amuyta qaway. Payqa yumpay hatunyasqam karqa hinaspa rimakun alli-allinllataña kikinmanta chay maqanakuymanta, yumpaytaqa ñaupaq taytan wañusqanmanta hawka kanan raykumaqanakusqanmanta. ¿Amupa ruwasqanchu? Ñaupaq taytanmi chaymantaqa hatunyanman, ichaqa manam paychu; ñawpaq taytanmi wañurqa qipa churinkuna hawka kacharisqa yachanankupaq. Chaynapim pay hawka kacharisqa ¿imaynatam pay chayta hapin? Sapaq runakunapa chaqlla suwakun, tiyaylla tiyakun carretapi ñuqañataqmi chutanay payta hinallataq piquetitapas waskapi puñunankama. Kanan lliw piquetinkunata rantikiruspanñataqmi upiakun, mana imata ruwaspalla hinaspa hatunyasqa ñaupaq kausayninmanta. ¿Ñuqapa hayka taytaykunataq wañuchisqa karqa chay maqanakuypi llapa runakuna mikuchinankupaq? ¿Chaykunapi manachu taytaykuna chutaraku armamentukunata, cañunkunata, mikuykunata hinaspa municionkunatawan? Chayna kaptinpas manam ñuqaykuqa hatunyanikuchu paykunapa ruwasqanwan mana huk kasqayku rayku; hinallaraqmi ruwanaykunata ruwaniku, imaynan taytaykupa ruwasqanta hinallam, hawkalla sapapunchaw.
– Taytankupa ñakarisqanmantam hatunyanku hinasta pichqa pachak wata esclavitudtapas. Ñuqapam ñakakuraqa kikin kasqanchikmanta kama, kunankunapas ñakakunikuraqmi hinaspa esclavisasqa kaniku ichaqa manam qaparinikuchu mana atinaykukama chaymanta. Paykunaqa nirqaku turkukunawan maqasqa kasqanta, sipiparurqa hinaspa kaspikunaman winarurqaku; ñuqapa aylluykunaqa sipipasqam karqa serbiokunawan hinallataq turkukunawanpas hinaspa yanusqaraq karapas, imaymana maqasqam karaku.
– Hatunyasqam kanku iñiyninkunamanta ichaqa manam imapipas iñinkuchu. ¿Imataq ñuqapa huchay hinallataq ñuqa hina kaqkunapapas mana ari nisqa kanapaq cristianukunapa chaupimpi? Iñiyninkum nin “amam suwakunkuichu” ichaqa amuy suwakunmi hinaspa upianraq chay suwasqankuna rantikusqan qullqiwan. Iñiyninmi nin kuyanakuychik wasimasikiwan ichaqa chiqninakuyllam paykuna pura. Paykunapaqa, allin runaqa, lliw yachachikqa, mana pitapas ñakachiqmi, manataqmi mañakunpaschu huk allin ruwananpaq, ñakay aman ruwananmanta. Hatun chaynamanmi urmaruraku imapas kanman hinaña mana ñakachikuq hina.
Turuqa ukukama samarirqa, kayñataq pampata ñanta qusnirichira.
– Hinaspaqa – turuqa llaqita yuyaymanarqa – kaynapiqa ¿manachu ñukaykuna paykunamanta allin kaniku? Manam pitapas sipiranichu, manam pitapas tumparanichu, manam suwakuranichu, manataqmi hauka runata wikutiranichu llamkasqanmanta, manam uraykachiranichu llaqtapa qullqinta, maman huk yanqa bancarrotata llullapi rikuchirqanichu, manam wataranichu hauka kaq runata, manam tumparanichu wawqiykunata, mana turu kasqaypa kuntranpi rirqanichu, manam yanqakunata rimaranichu, manam ministruchu karani llaqtaypi manataqmi llaqtayta ñakachiranichu, manataqmi mana imatapas ñakachirqanichu, allinkunatapas ruwanim ñakachiwachkaptinkupas. Mamay paqarirachiwaptillanmi, millay runakuna qichuruwarqa mamaypa chuchu yakunta. Taytacham unancharqa ñuqanchikpaq qurallatapas, chaytapas qichuwanchikraqmi. Hinaspan, maqawachkaptinkupas, runakunapa carretanta chutanikuraqmi, qalpanta yapunikuraqmi chaywan tantata mikuchiniku. Chayna kaptimpas manam ñuqaykupa ruwasqaykuta yuyankuchu llactayku rayku ruwasqaykuta…
– Qawanapaq hinata qaway ayuno nisqanta; runakunapaqa, iñiyninmi nin ayuno nisqanta ruwanankupaq sapa hatun raymipi hinallaqa manam chaychata ruwayta munankuchu, ñuqaykuñataq mamaypa ñuñun saqisqayku punchawmanta ayuno nisqanta ruwaniku sapa punchaw.
Turuqa kumuykurqa yuyaymanaq hina, hinaspa yapamanta huqarirqa, piñasqam samarirqa hinaspan yaqapas umanman imapas allin kutiramunman hina karqa, yuyaymanachistin, yanqallamantam qaparirqa kusi-kusisqa.
– Oh, kunanmi yacharuni, chaymi kanan – hinaspa hinalla yuyaymanarqa – chaymi chay kaq, hatunyasqaqa kachkanku hawka saqisqa yachaspanmi hinataq chay Llaqtayuqpa harkayninkunamantawan. Chaypim anchata yuyaymananay.
Payqa yuyaymanarqa, yuyaymanarqa ichaqa manam yachayta atirachu.
– ¿Maytaq chay harkaqninkuna? Sichum piliciakuna akllanaykichikpaq kamachisunkichik, paykunapas akllanku hina chaynallam niymanku: “¡Payma-aaa-nmiii sayaa-aa-ni!” Mana kamachisuptikichikmi ichaqa ama akllaq asuykuychikchu, astawan politikamanqa ama qawariypaschikchu, ñuqayku hinam maqasqa ñakakunku wichkaykusqa, mana huchayuq kaspapas. Ñuqaykuqa waqayllatapas atinikuraqmi, chupaykullatapas kuyuchinikuraqmi paykunaqa manam chayllatapas atinkuchu.
Chayllapim amun lluqsiramurqa upyana wasimanta. Sinka, yaqapa wichiykuchkaq hina, anta-anta ñawiyuq, rimapakustin mana pipa yachananta, qinqu-qinquta ñanman puristin.
– Qaway hinalla ¿imaynanpim kay hatunyasqa churi hawka kacharisqa yachayninta taytankunapa yawarninwan rantisqa? Ari, amuyqa upyakuqmi hina suwataq, ichaqa ¿imaynatam wakinkuna hawka kacharisqa kawsayninta apanku? Mana ima ruwanallampaqmi, qipapi apakusqankunamanta hatunkaynillampaqmi taytankupa hatun ruwasqankunata hapikuykunallampaqmi, nisqayman hinallam yapamurqaku. Ñuqayku turukunaqa, hinallam llamkachkaniku alli-allinta mana samaykuspa, allin llamkaqkuna imaynam taytaykuna karqaku hina, turukunam kanchik, ichaqa hatunkayta kachwanrqami alli-allin llamkasqanchikmanta kanan punchaukuna.
Turuqa samarirqa ukukaman hinaspa kunkanta yugupaq allichakurqa.
Belgradopiñataq, 1902
“Radoje Domanović” llamkaypas, rinasimimantikraqra Mallcco Melaneo henallataq Mallcco Zenon, 2020
Demon (2/2)
II
A grand sunset. The west is covered in pink hues, and the forests look as if they were engulfed in flames of most vivid colours.
Đorđe read until dusk, and then he went out to the garden to rest and enjoy in the most beautiful time of day.
He recalled Turgenev’s descriptions of nature’s wonders, so he started observing each little cloud, each nuance of the magical colours of the sunset, the forest, the sky showing here and there through the trees, and the rays of the sun piercing through as if there were a red-hot mass of blood flowing behind the forest. He looked at the branches lightly trembling, and the leaves fluttering in the wind.
It seemed to him as if the whole nature possesses a soul, boundless and magnificent, and that his soul had blended with it, and surrendered to silent, sweet longing, and mysterious, grandiose serenity.
Suddenly he heard hooves stomping and he looked up the road. Two horsemen rushed towards him in a cloud of dust, and dismounted before his house.
Another scribe from the county seat, accompanied by a gendarme.
– Good afternoon! – muttered the scribe through his teeth, all dignified and pompous, looking almost over Đorđe’s shoulder, and not even waiting for him to greet them back, he asked in a sharper, more official tone:
– Are you Đorđe Andrić, the philosopher?
– I am – said Đorđe, looking astounded at the scribe and the gendarme strolling back and forth by his side, frowning seriously.
– Are you the one distributing books that are against the current state of affairs and the government?! – asked the scribe, full of authority.
– Me?! – asked Đorđe, shocked by such an unexpected question, and he just could not believe what was going on.
Gendarme made a slight cough, but with such an air of importance as if he were saying: “Beware, I am also standing before you in this uniform, in all my power and might!”
– Kindly come inside the house! – ordered the scribe. Gendarme approached him with his chest forward.
– But I don’t know what it is you want, I don’t even know who you are!…
– Now you’ll get to know who I am! – shouted the scribe as he nodded at the gendarme.
Gendarme grabbed his arm, pushing him forwards, and uttering in an even sterner tone:
– Get in when you’re spoken to, quit playing the fool! – pointing at the door.
Đorđe went in.
Only his mother and his three-year old nephew were in the house, while others had gone to work in the fields, where they will stay the whole night.
When the scribe entered, the poor lady bowed, and approached meekly to greet them, but he didn’t even look at her, he just followed Đorđe into the room.
Gendarme followed them inside with the same important air.
The search started. They collected all the books and papers. Night fell. They lit a candle and ransacked the house and the basement, they even raised the icons from the walls to check if there was something behind them.
–
The moon was shining and the stars were alight. Windmills are clattering and work songs were echoing in the air. It would’ve been such a pleasure just to stand and watch all the beauty surrounding them.
The old woman sat alone in front of the house and cried, praying to God, while young Ivica was sitting on the doorstep playing, unwinding a ball of yarn from his grandma’s basket.
At the same time, far away from home, Đorđe was walking in front of the gendarme.
Deep in thought and shaken by the strange event, he could not enjoy hearing his favourite work song:
Shine, oh moon, shine, cold light!
Only a young dreamer could have felt the weight of Đorđe’s thoughts and emotions.
In front of them a farmer was driving a cart full of wheat. Cowbells on the oxen were clanking in the rhythm of their gait, and the farmer was singing out loud:
Oh, dark night, cold till the morrow,
Oh, my heart so filled with sorrow!
Never before has Đorđe felt and understood so vividly and so strongly this song that was forged by suffering from the hearts of the common folk.
–
The next day, having spent the night under surveillance in the tavern, by the mercy of the chief inspector, Đorđe was now standing before him bareheaded, pale, and tired of the sleepless night and strange thoughts.
Chief inspector started interrogating, and an apprentice clerk was taking notes.
– What is your name?
– Đorđe Andrić.
– What is your occupation?
– I am a student.
Chief inspector must have counted this to be an aggravating circumstance.
– How old are you?
– Twenty one.
– Have you ever been convicted?
– I was put in detention during my first year in grammar school.
– What for?
– For calling a friend ‘beanpole’!
Chief inspector thought about something for a second, searched through the books and muttered to himself:
– Right, defamation! Who sentenced you?
– Class teacher did!
Chief inspector winced, and it looked as if he were ashamed of himself.
– Have you ever been convicted by a civil court?
– How could I’ve been when I’m still a student?!
Chief inspector fell silent, mulling something over, and at long last he mumbled:
– This is an urgent matter – he coughed and continued the interrogation after having finished a whole cigarette and drinking a glass of water, just like a man preparing to embark on a serious undertaking.
– What did you read yesterday?
– The “Demon”!
– Write that down! – shrieked the chief inspector. – Did you read it to anyone else?
– No, but I could recommend it to anyone as very nice reading.
– You are standing before authority, think well before you repeat that it is nice, very nice reading!
– Very nice!
– You dare say so?! Write that down, he read it, and contrary to civil laws still claims that a forbidden thing is nice.
– In the name of God, Sir, what is so horrible in saying that Lermontov’s “Demon” is a nice thing? Do the laws forbid that?
– Who are you trying to deceive? Who’s asking you about Lermontov? Don’t tempt your fate by trying to play tricks with the chief inspector!
– That’s what you’re asking me about!
– About what?!
– Well, the Lermontov’s “Demon”, whether it is a nice thing!
– So?!
– So I’m saying that the poet is a genius and rightfully celebrated.
– Don’t give me this nonsense, tell me what is it you like in that book, that is what I want, understand! – shouted the chief inspector thumping his feet which made the whole building trembled.
Đorđe was astounded, but he had to quote, so he chose verses randomly:
By the first day of our creation
I swear, and by its final night
I swear by evil’s condemnation
And by the triumph of the right!
– Enough! Don’t you make a fool of me with this nonsense! – shouted the chief inspector slamming his hand on the table angrily.
– Well you asked for it!
– I know what I’m asking for, speak up before I show you what I can do!
The clerk was picking his teeth, eyeing the chief inspector and the student, dumbfounded by the proceedings.
– But I assure you that is the “Demon”! – said Đorđe, all sweating from anger.
Chief inspector sat still for a moment, and then he asked:
– So, it’s in a poem?!
– Yes, Lermontov is a poet!
– Don’t you mislead me!
– Well he wrote it!
– Who did?
– Lermontov.
Chief inspector rang his bell, and ordered to have Lermontov looked up in the Police Herald.
– It’s Zmaj’s translation!
– What translation?
– Of the book.
– Who is that Lermontov?
– Russian.
– A-ha, so he is Russian?! – said the chief inspector, gawking at him, lost for words.
The clerk returned and said that there is no such thing in the Police Herald.
It took a lot of explanation for the chief inspector to come to his senses, to understand that poets are not photographed for warrants in the Police Herald, and that this is a book publicly available to anyone.
He even ordered a copy of Zmaj’s “Poems” to be brought from the bookstore, to make sure it is in there.
Eventually his tone softened, and became almost cordial:
– Alright, alright, sir, we will see about this; I will keep, you know, just in case, that Russian book, until I’ve inspected it! Our job is hard, you see. We step on people’s toes, and all that because of our work. And people do not understand, they think it’s all my whim!
– Goodbye.
– Farewell, give my regards to your family, we did put you on a bit of a rough spot, haven’t we?
–
This may have happened somewhere once, some time ago in some strange land, and it may not have even occurred on Earth, if perchance there are people inhabiting the Moon. It is most likely to believe this to be a dream of mine. Dreaming feels so sweet, and I do not want to become disappointed like Đorđe. Already he thinks somewhat differently now, and he stopped dreaming only about poems.
Belgrade, 16th September 1898
Published in “Novi Odjek” (New Echo) on 20th September 1898
For the “Radoje Domanović” Project, translated by Vladimir Živanović, proofread by Linda Hopkins.
English translation of Lermontov’s verses taken from: Narrative Poems by Alexander Pushkin and by Mikhail Lermontov, Random House, New York 1983, translated by Charles Johnston.
Remark: Although the author states that events from this short story had most probably only occurred in his dream, they also would not be entirely unlikely. The end of the XIX century saw Serbia under an oppressive, reactionary regime of the Obrenović dynasty. After a defeat in war with Bulgaria and serious domestic difficulties, in 1889, King Milan abdicated in favour of his only son, Aleksandar, and left Serbia for Paris where he joined his then mistress. However, during certain periods of his son’s reign, he still exerted a significant influence over domestic politics.
In October 1897, Milan returned to Serbia and was appointed by his son to be commander-in-chief of the Serbian Army. Sometime after this appointment (late 1897 or early 1898), a young Belgrade lawyer Ljubomir Živković wrote a 20-page pamphlet against the ex-king, called “The Demon of Serbia”, which was printed abroad in 50,000 copies, and circulated illegally in Serbia, describing the ex-king as a gambler and a philanderer, full of hatred towards the Serbs, and willing to ruin the army and the whole country for his own personal gain. Although the pamphlet was banned and destroyed by the government, a couple of copies of are still extant.
It is also interesting to note that this story is the first satirical work written and published by Radoje Domanović, who had just moved to Belgrade around that time, having been dismissed from his teaching post in Leskovac in July 1898 due to his membership in the opposition People’s Radical Party, and further diminishing any possibility of working in the public sector after proposing a resolution against the government on the Tenth Assembly of the Teachers’ Society in August 1898.
Demon (1/2)
Sweet are the days of childhood; sweet are the dreams of youth. Blessed is he who had never woken up to feel all the bitterness of life and its waking moments.
Our days pass fleetly, time flies, events speed by us so quickly, and in this weird whirlwind of events, one cannot even dream; you have to wake up, even if you haven’t slept through the sweetest dreams of the happiest days of your youth.
Our hero had grasped the reality of life when he was twenty-one years old, during his studies at the Grande École.
The school was on holiday, so Đorđe went back home to spend the summer and enjoy the lovely forests of his birthplace, in the loving embrace of his parents.
The first morning upon his arrival, he took the narrow path through the forest, which leads to a spring on top of the hill. From the top, there is a beautiful view of the whole surroundings.
He sat on the bench he made himself under the linden tree by the spring, listened to the murmuring of water, and quaffed the fragrance and the fresh breath of the summer morning. He watched the forests, pathways and meadows he used to run along so many times in his childhood. He watched the white houses of his neighbours, standing out among the orchards and forested hills; countless childhood memories awakening in his mind.
He feels as though everything in this land knows him, everything loves him, even the sun warms him more kindly, and wind caresses him more gently, as if the whole nature greets him through the silent whisper of the stream, and rustling of the leaves: “Welcome home!”
Thousands of the most beautiful verses circled through his mind, and he recited them out loud passionately as if he was looking for help expressing his emotions.
He returned home fresh and merry, his face shining from inner happiness and pleasure.
–
After breakfast, he lay on the couch, and took a book – Lermontov. That is his most loved poet, maybe because he just started reading his books, or generally his best of all.
His father was sitting in the kitchen with two-three other farmers, discussing the prices of wheat and other crops.
Đorđe was reading, without listening to them, although the door to the kitchen was by chance left open.
The conversation stopped, so Đorđe also stopped reading and looked that way.
Someone greeted the room, and he could hear a saber rattling.
The farmers stood up and removed their hats.
“Must be the county scribe,” Đorđe thought to himself disinterestedly and continued reading.
Old Jakov, Đorđe’s father, immediately boasted to the scribe that his son had returned from studies, and he led him into the room filled of pride and joy.
It didn’t feel right for Đorđe to be interrupted, but he stopped reading, and greeted the scribe.
– You were reading, and we disturbed you! – said the scribe sitting down, taking off his service cap, and smoothing his hair.
– Never mind, never mind! I love to read, but I love company even more! – said Đorđe.
– Well, yes, that’s what we educated people enjoy! I read a lot myself, I must have read, truth be told, a basket of books that big! – said the scribe proudly, pointing at the laundry basket under the table.
Old man Jakov stood by the door, holding his breath, absorbed in the pleasure of seeing that his son knows how to talk to high-ranking people.
The farmers stood by the door in the kitchen, listening attentively, as if they were expecting to hear something new and good for themselves, about the taxes or something else.
Đorđe started browsing through the book idly.
— What is the young master reading, if I may ask? — The scribe interrupted the silence.
— Lermontov — Đorđe replied.
—Ri…i…i…ght! Very nice to hear that, it is a wonderful novel, I did read it somewhere before. Which volume are you reading?
— He is a poet! — said Đorđe.
— Yes, yes, a poem, what was I thinking! Oh, such a famous piece! — said the scribe vividly slapping his knee, and then he smiled, tapped himself on the head and waved his arm in a gesture of ridiculing himself as if he had forgotten something so familiar to him as his own name.
— Which volume is out now, you were saying?… I think I kept buying until the fifth volume!
— These are collected works, it does not come out in volumes!
— Oh, yeah, yeah, right, that’s right, I must’ve been thinking about a play by Branko Radičević[1], that’ll be it… What part were you reading just now?
— I’m just reading the “Demon”. Extraordinary piece, and verses so melodic that they couldn’t be more beautiful! – exclaimed Đorđe.
Scribe fell silent suddenly, and started rubbing his forehead, frowning, as if he were recollecting something.
“Seems like that’s one of those forbidden books!” – He thought, and suddenly postured himself as a person of authority. He wanted to jump up, grab the book, and shout at Đorđe: “Forwards, in the name of the law!” He had to restrain himself, because he was not yet entirely certain that is the case, so he decided to interrogate him skillfully, making sure that Đorđe will not notice as he leads him on, and then he will immediately go and report about his important finding.
So he smiled again and said in his most courteous tone:
– Young master would be so kind to read a nice segment to me. I enjoy listening to such things!
– With pleasure, – said Đorđe, glad to get to read, just to stop the conversation he was getting fed up with. He remembered that the scribe cannot speak Russian, so he didn’t even ask him, but took Zmaj’s[2] translation of the “Demon” and started from the beginning.
A Demon, soul of all the banished,
Sadly above the sinful world
Floated, and thoughts of days now vanished
Before him crowdingly unfurled.
This felt somehow obscure to the scribe, and he thought that therein lay the danger.
“Wait, let me dupe him like this a bit”, he said to himself, and interrupted Đorđe saying:
– Quite a beautiful piece!
– Extraordinary! – said Đorđe.
– But just as long as it is not somehow against the current state of affairs in the country!
Đorđe didn’t even listen to him, and had no idea what he wanted to say. He kept reading, and the scribe listened, and as he listened, one word or another evocated terrible images in his mind.
“That’s it, that’s it!” he thought to himself, but still there was something suspicious about Tamara!
“Which Tamara might that be…? A-ha!” he thought, explaining it to himself in his own way, “I know which one it is!”
Oh, soul of evil, soul unsleeping,
In midnight gloom, what tryst is keeping?
None of your votaries are here…
“Well, that’s that!” the scribe thought to himself and stood up. His belief was now stronger than suspicion.
– Nice, nice piece, really beautiful! – He said, smiling, and in a sweet tone apologized that he had to leave, which is a pity because he had had such a pleasant time.
“Now you’ll see your joy, you little fish!” he thought maliciously after he had left the house.
[1] Branko Radičević (1824–1853) was one of the most influential Romantic poets in modern Serbian literature, especially since he was the first poet to use the simple language of the common people in his works. During his lifetime he published two collections of poems (in 1847 and 1851), and his remaining poems were collected in a third book that was published posthumously (1862); he did not write any plays.
[2] Jovan Jovanović (1833–1904), best known in Serbia mononymously by his nickname “Zmaj”, was one of the most prolific Serbian poets and translators of the XIX century. He translated from Hungarian, German and Russian, and he made it possible for Serbian audiences to enjoy works of Goethe, Heine, Tennyson, Petőfi, Lermontov and many others.
Reasoning of an ordinary Serbian ox
Good deal of wonders occur in this world, and our country is, as many say, overflowing with wonders to such an extent that wonders are no longer wonders. There are people here on very high positions who do not think at all, and as a compensation, or maybe for some other reasons, an ordinary peasant’s ox, which differs not one bit from other Serbian oxen, started thinking. God knows what happened that made this ingenious animal dare to take up such a brash endeavour, especially since it had been proven that in Serbia this unfortunate occupation could only bring you disservice. Let us then say that this poor devil, in all his naïveté, didn’t even know that this endeavour is not profitable in his homeland, so we won’t attribute him with any particular civic courage. But it still remains a mystery why an ox should think since he is not a voter, nor a councillor, nor a magistrate, nor has he been elected a deputy in any bovine assembly, or even (if he has reached a certain age) a senator. And had the poor soul ever dreamt of becoming a minister of state in any bovine country, he should have known that on the contrary, he ought to practice how to think as little as possible, like those excellent ministers in some happier countries, although our country is not so lucky in this respect either. In the end, why should we care about why an ox in Serbia has taken up an endeavour abandoned by the people? Also, it might have happened that he started thinking merely due to some natural instinct of his.
So, what kind of an ox is it? An ordinary ox which has, as zoology teaches us, a head, body, and limbs, like all the other oxen; he pulls a cart, grazes on grass, licks salt, ruminates and brays. His name is Sivonja, the grey ox.
Here is how he started thinking. One day his master yoked him and his buddy, Galonja, loaded some stolen pickets on the cart and took them to the town to sell. Almost immediately upon entering the town, he sold the pickets and then unyoked Sivonja and his comrade, hooked the chain that ties them to the yoke, threw a sheaf of thimbleweed in front of them, and merrily went into a small tavern to refresh with a few drinks. There was a festival ongoing in the town, so there were men, women, and children passing by from all sides. Galonja, otherwise known to other oxen as being somewhat dumb, did not look at anything, instead, he stuck into his lunch in all seriousness, ate a bellyful, brayed a bit out of pure enjoyment, and then lay down, sweetly dozing and ruminating. All those people passing by were no concern of his. He is just dozing and ruminating peacefully (it’s a pity he is not a human, with all these predispositions for a lofty career). But Sivonja could not take a single bite. His dreamy eyes and the sad expression on his face showed at first glance that this was a thinker, and a sweet, impressionable soul. People, Serbs, are passing him by, proud of their glorious past, their name, their nation, and this pride shows in their stern demeanour and pace. Sivonja observed all this, and his soul was all of a sudden consumed by sorrow and pain due to the tremendous injustice, and he couldn’t but succumb to such a strong, sudden and powerful emotion; he brayed sadly, painfully, tears rolling in his eyes. And in his immense pain, Sivonja started to think:
– What are my master and his compatriots, the Serbs, so proud of? Why do they hold their heads so high and look at my people with haughty pride and contempt? They are proud of their motherland, proud that merciful fate has granted them to be born here in Serbia. My mother gave birth to me here in Serbia as well, and Serbia is not only my native land but my father’s also, and my ancestors have, just like theirs, all together, come to these lands from the old Slavic homeland. And yet none of us oxen have felt proud of it, we only took pride in our ability to pull a heavier load uphill; to this day, never has an ox told a German ox: “What do you want with me, I am a Serbian ox, my homeland is the proud country of Serbia, all my ancestors had been calved here, and here, in this land, are the graves of my forefathers. ” God forbid, we never took pride in this, never has it come to our mind, and they are even proud of that. Strange folk!
Taken by these thoughts, the ox sadly shook his head, bell on his neck ringing and yoke crackling. Galonja opened his eyes, looked at his friend, and mooed:
– There you go again with that tomfoolery of yours! Eat, fool, grow some fat, look at your ribs all sticking out; if it were good to think, people would not have left it to us oxen. No way would we’ve been so fortunate!
Sivonja looked at his comrade with pity, turned his head away from him, and immersed back in his thoughts.
– They take pride in their glorious past. They have their Field of Kosovo, Battle of Kosovo. Big deal, haven’t my ancestors pulled carts with food and armaments even back then? If it weren’t for us, people would’ve had to do it themselves. Then there is the uprising against the Turks. A grand, noble endeavour, but who was there at the time? Was it these high-nosed dimwits, strutting proudly before me as if it were their merit, who raised the uprising? Here, take my master as an example. He too is so proud and brags about the uprising, especially with the fact that his great-grandfather perished in the war of liberation as a true hero. And is this my master’s merit? His great-grandfather had the right to be proud, but not him; his great-grandfather died so that my master, his descendant, could be free. So he is free, and how does he use his freedom? He steals other people’s pickets, sits on the cart, and I have to pull both him and the pickets while he’s asleep at the reins. Now he has sold his pickets, he’s drinking liquor, doing nothing and being proud with his glorious past. And just how many of my ancestors had been slaughtered in the uprising to feed the fighters? And did not my ancestors at the time pull the armaments, cannons, food, ammunition? And yet we don’t take pride in their merits because we haven’t changed; we still do our duty today, just as our ancestors did, patiently and conscientiously.
They are proud of their ancestors’ suffering and of five hundred years of slavery. My kin has suffered throughout our existence, and today still we suffer and are enslaved, and yet we don’t scream about it at the top of our voices. They say that Turks had tortured, slaughtered and impaled them; well, my ancestors were slaughtered by both Serbs and Turks alike, and roasted, and put on all kinds of torture.
They are proud of their religion, and yet they believe in nothing. What is the fault of me and my folk that we cannot be accepted among Christians? Their religion tells them “thou shalt not steal” and there is my master stealing and drinking for the money he got for stealing. Their religion instructs them to love their neighbours, and yet they only do harm to one another. For them, the best of men, an example of virtue, is the one who doesn’t do any harm, and of course, nobody even considers asking anyone to do something good as well, aside from not doing harm. That’s just how low they’ve got that their examples of virtue amount to no more than any useless item that doesn’t do harm.
The ox sighed deeply, and his sigh raised the dust from the road.
– So – the ox continued with his sad thoughts – in this case, aren’t me and my kin better in all that than any of them? I have never murdered anyone, I have never defamed anyone, haven’t stolen anything, haven’t fired an innocent man from public service, haven’t made a deficit in the state treasury, haven’t declared a fake bankruptcy, I have never chained or arrested innocent people, I have never slandered my friends, I have never gone against my ox principles, I haven’t made false testimonies, I was never a minister of state and never did the country any harm, and not only did I not do any harm, I even do good to those who do me harm. My mother gave birth to me, and immediately, evil men even took my mother’s milk from me. God has at least created grass for us oxen, and not for men, and yet they deprive us of it as well. Still, besides all that beating, we pull men’s carts, plough their fields and feed them bread. And yet nobody admits our merits that we do for the motherland…
– Or take fasting as an example; well, to men, religion tells to fast on all feast days, and yet they are not even willing to endure this little fasting, while I and my folk are fasting all our lives, ever since we are first weaned from mother’s breast.
Ox lowered his head as if he were worried, then raised it again, snorted angrily, and it seemed that something important was coming back to him, tormenting him; all of a sudden, he mooed joyously:
– Oh, I know now, it has to be that – and he continued thinking, – that’s what it is; they are proud of their freedom and civil rights. I need to put my mind to it seriously.
And he was thinking, thinking, but couldn’t make it out.
– What are these rights of theirs? If the police order them to vote, they vote, and like that, we could just as easily moo out: “Foo-o-o-or!”And if they are not ordered to, they dare not vote, or even dabble in politics, just like us. They also suffer beatings in prison, even if completely innocent. At least we bray and wave our tails, and they don’t even have that little civic courage.
And at that moment, his master came out of the tavern. Drunken, staggering, eyes blurred, mumbling some incomprehensible words, he meanderingly walked towards the cart.
– Just behold, how is this proud descendant using the freedom that was won with the blood of his ancestors? Right, my master is a drunkard and a thief, but how do the others use this freedom? Just to idle away and take pride in the past and in the merit of their ancestors, in which they have as much contribution as I. And us oxen, we remained as hardworking and useful labourers just as our ancestors had been. We are oxen, but we can still be proud of our arduous work and merits today.
The ox sighed deeply and readied his neck for the yoke.
In Belgrade, 1902.
For the “Radoje Domanović” Project translated by Vladimir Živanović, proofread by Julia Bleck. In Belgrade, 19 August 2019.
Servilie (2/12)
Sur la gauche, au bord de l’eau, non loin de l’endroit où j’avais débarqué, je remarquai une formidable pyramide de marbre, sur laquelle étaient gravées des lettres d’or. Je m’approchai, avide d’en savoir plus, m’attendant à y lire les noms des vaillants héros dont m’avait parlé mon père. Mais là quelle ne fut pas ma surprise! L’inscription gravée dans le marbre disait:
«D’ici vers le nord s’étend le territoire d’un peuple glorieux et comblé auquel Dieu tout-puissant a fait don d’une chance inouïe: dans sa langue, à la fierté du pays et de la nation, k devant i se transforme toujours en c, et ce en totale conformité avec les règles de grammaire.»[1]
J’eus beau lire et relire, j’en restai stupéfait: qu’est-ce que tout cela pouvait bien vouloir dire? Et le plus incroyable, c’est que les mots étaient écrits dans ma langue maternelle.
«Oui, c’est bien la langue de mon père, celle de ses aïeux, la mienne aussi, mais ce pays n’est pas le bon; il n’a rien à voir avec celui dont me parlait mon père.» J’étais intrigué que ce fut la même langue, mais je me dis qu’il s’agissait peut-être de deux peuples éloignés ayant une origine commune, de deux peuples frères parlant le même idiome sans pour autant se connaître l’un l’autre. Peu à peu, mon étonnement céda devant la fierté que ma langue maternelle possédât elle aussi, par pur hasard, cette même admirable caractéristique.
Je passai la forteresse et enfilai la rue menant en ville pour aller me reposer de ma longue marche dans quelque hôtel. Je chercherais ensuite du travail et, grâce à l’argent gagné, pourrais poursuivre ma route en quête de ma patrie.
A peine avais-je fait trois pas qu’une foule commença subitement de s’attrouper autour de moi comme si j’étais une bête de foire. Vieux et jeunes, hommes et femmes, on se pressait, se poussait, se bousculait, se hissait sur la pointe des pieds pour me voir du mieux possible. Pour finir, il y eut tant de monde que la rue fut barrée et la circulation interdite.
Je fus émerveillé par ces inconnus qui me dévisageaient avec curiosité. Chacun jusqu’au dernier arborait décorations et écharpes. Il y avait bien quelques pauvres qui n’en possédaient qu’une ou deux mais, ceux-là mis à part, ils en étaient tellement bardés qu’on ne voyait même plus leur habit. Certains en avaient trop pour les porter toutes: ils traînaient derrière eux une carriole pleine de récompenses pour leurs états de service, de médailles en forme d’étoile, de rubans, de marques de distinction en tout genre.
C’est tout juste si je pouvais avancer à travers cette foule d’individus couverts de gloire qui m’entouraient et se bousculaient pour s’approcher de moi. Il y eut même des disputes, on fit des reproches à ceux qui restaient trop longtemps près de moi:
— Bon, ça va maintenant, vous avez assez regardé, laissez-nous passer qu’on puisse voir un peu, nous aussi.
Le premier qui s’était suffisamment rapproché se dépêchait d’engager aussitôt la conversation, histoire de ne pas être refoulé par un autre quidam.
Ébahis, ils posaient encore et toujours les mêmes questions, c’en était assommant:
— Tu viens d’où?… T’as pas de décorations?…
— Je n’en ai pas.
— T’as quel âge?
— Soixante ans.
— Et t’as pas encore une seule médaille?
— Pas une seule.
Des voix s’élevèrent dans la foule, pareilles à celles des montreurs de foire exhibant leurs créatures:
— Écoutez-moi ça, bonnes gens: un type de soixante ans, et pas la plus petite décoration!
Bousculade, tapage, vacarme, cohue ne firent que grandir. Affluant de toutes parts, les gens tentaient des percées à travers la foule pour me voir. Ils en vinrent finalement à se battre; la police dut intervenir pour ramener l’ordre.
Avant que la bagarre n’éclate, j’avais moi aussi interrogé les uns et les autres pour savoir quels étaient les mérites auxquels ils devaient leurs décorations.
L’un me déclara que son ministre l’avait distingué car il avait rendu à la Patrie des services exceptionnels et s’était sacrifié pour elle: il avait administré de fortes sommes d’argent appartenant à l’État pendant toute une année, et il n’y avait dans la caisse, au moment de l’inspection des comptes, que deux mille dinars de moins que ce qui aurait dû s’y trouver. On disait qu’il n’avait pas volé sa médaille, car il aurait pu tout dilapider si sa noblesse d’âme et son patriotisme ne l’en avaient empêché.
Un autre avait été décoré pour avoir surveillé pendant un mois entier des entrepôts d’Etat dont aucun n’avait brûlé.
Un troisième l’avait été pour avoir remarqué et constaté le premier que, chose intéressante, le mot livre se termine par e et commence par l.
Une cuisinière avait été récompensée pour n’avoir dérobé, en cinq ans de service dans une riche maison, que quelques objets en argent ou en or.
Un autre encore avait reçu une décoration parce que, après avoir causé un lourd déficit, il ne s’était pas suicidé comme l’exigeait le stupide modèle de l’époque mais, au contraire, s’était exclamé avec morgue devant le tribunal:
— J’ai mis en pratique mes propres vues, mes propres idées, tel est mon regard sur le monde, et vous, vous me jugez. Me voici! (À ce moment précis, il s’était frappé la poitrine et avait avancé d’un pas.)
Celui-là, je crois, avait eu la médaille du courage civique. (Et il ne l’avait pas volée!)
Un grand-père devait sa décoration au fait qu’il avait atteint son grand âge sans mourir pour autant.
Un autre encore avait été distingué pour s’être enrichi en moins de six mois, en fournissant à l’État du blé de mauvaise qualité et toutes sortes d’autres marchandises.
Un riche héritier avait été récompensé pour n’avoir pas dilapidé le patrimoine familial et avoir fait don de cinq dinars aux œuvres de bienfaisance.
Comment tout retenir! Je ne me rappelle, pour chacun, qu’un seul de ses titres de dignité, les énumérer tous serait impossible.
Quand, donc, ils en vinrent à se disputer et à se battre, la police entreprit de disperser la foule, tandis qu’un individu, qui avait tout l’air d’un kmet, ordonnait de faire avancer un fiacre. On m’y fit monter; un cordon de sbires armés se tenait tout autour pour repousser les gens. L’individu susdit s’installa à côté de moi et nous nous mîmes en route; arrivant de toutes parts, une marée humaine courait derrière nous.
La voiture s’arrêta devant une vaste maison basse, à moitié délabrée.
— Mais on est où maintenant? demandai-je à ce kmet (du moins est-ce ainsi que je l’appelle), qui avait procuré la voiture et y avait pris place avec moi.
— C’est notre hôtel de police.
En descendant du fiacre, je vis deux types qui se battaient juste devant la porte du bâtiment. Tout autour, des sbires en armes restaient là à observer la rixe; le chef de la police et tous les autres fonctionnaires profitaient aussi du spectacle.
— Pourquoi se battent-ils? demandai-je.
— Tels sont les ordres: tout esclandre doit se dérouler ici, sous les yeux des forces de l’ordre. Vous savez ce que c’est, hein! M. le chef et ses subordonnés ne vont quand même pas se fatiguer à cavaler dans tous les coins! Pour nous, c’est plus simple comme ça, et plus facile à contrôler. Si deux gars veulent régler un différend à coups de poing, ils viennent ici. Ceux qui font un esclandre sur la voie publique, en un lieu non prévu à cet effet, nous sommes obligés de les sanctionner.
Le chef, un gros bonhomme aux moustaches grisonnantes, sans barbe, pourvu d’un triple menton, faillit s’évanouir d’ahurissement en me voyant. Ayant recouvré ses esprits, il articula:
— Mais d’où tu sors, toi, bon Dieu?…
Puis, les bras ballants, il se mit à m’observer sous toutes les coutures.
Celui qui m’avait accompagné échangea quelques mots à voix basse avec lui; sans doute venait-il au rapport pour l’informer de tout ce qui s’était passé. Le chef se rembrunit et me demanda d’un ton aigre:
— D’où tu sors? Réponds!
J’entrepris de tout lui conter par le menu, qui j’étais, d’où j’étais, où j’allais, ce qui l’énerva passablement; il cria:
— Ça va, ça va, épargne-moi ton baratin, venons-en au fait: comment oses-tu te promener dans cet appareil en pleine rue et en plein jour?
Je me regardai devant, derrière — ma mise n’avait-elle pas quelque chose d’anormal? — mais je ne remarquai rien. J’avais arpenté la terre entière dans cette tenue et personne nulle part ne m’avait sommé de répondre à une questi pareille.
— Je te cause! T’as perdu ta langue? vociféra-t-il avec la courtoisie, conforme au règlement, qui caractérise la police de ce pays.
Il tremblait de colère.
— Je vais t’expédier en prison pour avoir provoqué un esclandre en un lieu non prévu à cet effet et avoir, par ta bêtise, ameuté tout le quartier.
— Je ne comprends rien, monsieur; en quoi ai-je bien pu faire tant de mal? fis-je effrayé.
— À ton âge, ne pas savoir ce que même les gamins des mes savent déjà… Je te le demande encore une fois: comment oses-tu déambuler en ville dans cet accoutrement et troubler l’ordre public, qui plus est en un lieu non prévu à cet effet?
— Je me tiens comme il faut.
—Tu es maboul, oui! À ton âge… Ha ha, il se tient comme il faut… Et elles sont passées où, tes décorations?
— Je n’en ai pas.
— Tu mens, vieille canaille!
— Je n’en ai pas, je le jure!
— Aucune?
— Aucune.
— Tu as quel âge?
— Soixante ans.
— Et aucune décoration en soixante ans? Mais tu l’as passée où, ta vie? Sur la Lune ou quoi?
— Je n’ai aucune décoration, je le jure sur tout ce que j’ai de plus cher en ce bas monde!
Le chef en resta sidéré. Bouche bée, les yeux écarquillés, il me dévisagea sans pouvoir articuler un mot.
Une fois à peu près remis de sa stupéfaction, il enjoignit aux nouvelles recrues d’aller chercher au plus vite une dizaine de décorations.
De la pièce attenante, on en apporta aussitôt toute une provision, médailles, écharpes, insignes en forme d’étoiles ou à porter autour du cou.
Le chef donna des ordres et, en un rien de temps, on m’accrocha deux ou trois étoiles, on me ceignit d’une écharpe on me suspendit trois ou quatre décorations autour du cou, on m’en épingla quelques-unes au manteau, à quoi on ajouta encore une vingtaine de médailles diverses et autres insignes commémoratifs.
Satisfait d’avoir trouvé le moyen d’éviter plus ample scandale, le chef s’exclama:
—Ah, ça va mieux! Voilà qui ressemble à peu près à quelqu’un de normal… Pas comme l’espèce de monstre qui a débarqué tout à l’heure et m’a semé la panique dans toute la ville…
S’adressant à moi, il termina par la question:
— Et je parie que tu ne savais pas qu’aujourd’hui, en plus, nous avons une célébration?
— Je l’ignorais.
— Bizarre! fit-il un peu vexé.
Il se tut quelques instants avant de poursuivre:
— Mon cheval, celui que je monte régulièrement, est né il y a cinq ans, jour pour jour. Ce matin, nos concitoyens les plus éminents m’ont présenté leurs félicitations; ce soir vers neuf heures, flambeau en main, on escortera mon cheval à travers la ville; après quoi un bal aura lieu dans le meilleur hôtel de la place, auquel seront admis les notables les plus influents.
Je faillis à mon tour en rester sidéré mais, afin qu’il ne remarquât rien, je me ressaisis et m’avançai pour lui adresser moi aussi mes compliments:
— Pardonnez-moi de n’avoir pas été au courant de ce jour solennel; je regrette infiniment de n’avoir pu vous congratuler en temps utile, alors voilà, je le fais maintenant.
Il me remercia de tout son cœur des sincères sentiments que je nourrissais à l’égard de son fidèle cheval, et ordonna aussitôt qu’on me servît quelque chose.
On m’offrit du vin et des gâteaux, puis je saluai le chef et m’en fus avec un milicien (qu’il avait chargé de m’accompagner à mon hôtel); paré de mes étoiles et de mes médailles, je pus marcher tranquillement dans la rue, sans provoquer ni attroupement ni tapage, ce qui n’aurait pas manqué d’arriver si je m’étais de nouveau aventuré sans décorations.
Le milicien me conduisit à l’hôtel Notre chère patrie qui a tant souffert. Le tenancier me donna une chambre où j’allai me reposer. J’avais hâte de me retrouver seul pour ta remettre des impressions étranges que ce pays m’avait d’emblée laissées.
[1] Règle d’alternance consonantiqueen serbo-croate. (N.d.T.)
Servilie (1/12)
J’ai lu dans un vieux bouquin une bien curieuse histoire. Dieu seul sait d’où je tiens ce livre datant d’une drôle d’époque: il y avait alors quantité de lois libérales, mais pas la moindre liberté; on dissertait sur l’économie, on lui consacrait des livres, mais on laissait les terres en jachère; le pays tout entier moralisait à qui mieux mieux, mais n’avait aucune morale; chaque foyer gardait au grenier ses provisions de logique, mais n’avait pas une miette de bon sens; on parlait à tout bout de champ d’épargne et de prospérité, mais on gaspillait à tous vents; et le dernier usurier, le dernier vaurien pouvait s’acheter pour quelques sous le titre d’«ardent défenseur de la nation et de la patrie».
L’auteur de cette curieuse histoire, de ces notes de voyage – de quel genre littéraire il peut bien s’agir, strictement parlant, je l’ignore, et je ne me suis pas risqué à le demander aux experts: il ne fait aucun doute qu’ils auraient, selon notre bonne vieille habitude serbe, transmis le dossier pour avis à la chambre des requêtes de la Cour de cassation. Soit dit en passant, ce n’est pas une mauvaise habitude. Il y a des gens qui sont obligés de penser, c’est leur métier, ils n’ont rien d’autre à faire; grâce à quoi, le commun de mortels n’a plus à s’en soucier. L’auteur, donc, de cette curieuse histoire, ou de ces notes de voyage, commençait par ces mots:
«J’ai passé cinquante années de ma vie à voyager de par le monde. J’ai vu un nombre incalculable de villes, de villages, de pays, d’hommes et de peuples, mais rien ne m’a plus étonné qu’une petite tribu vivant dans une merveilleuse et paisible contrée. Je vais vous parler de cette heureuse tribu, bien que je sache par avance que personne ne voudra me croire, ni maintenant ni jamais, même après ma mort, si ces lignes devaient tomber entre les mains de quelqu’un…»
Quel vieux roublard! En commençant précisément de la sorte, il m’a forcé à lire son histoire jusqu’au bout et maintenant, naturellement, j’ai envie de la raconter à mon tour. Mais n’allez pas considérer qu’en disant cela je cherche à vous convaincre! Je préfère le déclarer tout de suite, dès le début, très franchement: cette histoire ne vaut pas la peine d’être lue, et puis cette vieille barbe (enfin, cette espèce d’écrivain) ment sur toute la ligne. Pourtant, comble de bizarrerie, je crois à ses mensonges comme à la plus haute vérité.
Voici donc comment il poursuivait son récit.
—
Il y a bien longtemps, mon père fut gravement blessé au combat. On le fit prisonnier et on l’emmena hors de sa patrie en terre étrangère, où il épousa une jeune compatriote d’une famille d’esclaves de guerre. Je naquis de cette union mais mon père mourut alors que j’avais à peine neuf ans. Il évoquait souvent devant moi sa terre natale, les héros et les sublimes figures dont elle fourmillait; leur patriotisme ardent et leurs guerres sanglantes pour la liberté; leurs vertus et leur probité; leur sens du sacrifice pour le salut du pays où tout, sans oublier sa propre vie, s’offrait sur l’autel de la patrie. Il me parlait du noble et glorieux passé de notre peuple. À sa mort, il me transmit ses dernières volontés: «Fils, la mort ne m’aura pas permis de rendre l’âme dans ma chère patrie, le sort n’aura pas voulu que ma dépouille repose dans cette terre sacrée que j’ai arrosée de mon sang pour qu’elle puisse être libre. Mon malheureux destin n’aura pas laissé la flamme de la liberté m’apporter sa chaleur sur ma terre natale tant aimée, avant que mes yeux ne se ferment. Mais mon âme est en paix, car cette flamme t’apportera sa lumière, à toi, mon fils, et à vous tous, nos enfants. Pars, fils, embrasse cette terre sacrée quand tu y poseras le pied; va et aime-la, et sache que de grandes œuvres attendent notre valeureuse nation; va et, en hommage à ton père, fais bon usage de la liberté, et n’oublie pas que mon sang, le sang de ton père, a arrosé cette terre, comme l’a fait pendant des siècles le noble sang de tes vaillants et glorieux ancêtres… »
A ces mots, il m’embrassa. Je sentis ses larmes goutter sur mon front.
— Pars, fils, que Dieu te…
Sur cette phrase inachevée, mon cher père rendit son dernier soupir.
Un mois ne s’était pas écoulé depuis sa mort que, une besace à l’épaule et un bâton à la main, je partis dans le vaste monde à la recherche de ma glorieuse patrie.
Cinquante années durant, je voyageai en terre étrangère, parcourant le globe, mais rien, nulle part, ne ressemblait au valeureux pays dont m’avait tant de fois parlé mon père.
Au cours de mon périple, pourtant, je découvris par hasard une contrée captivante, dont je vais maintenant vous parler.
C’était un jour d’été. Le soleil brûlait à vous en faire bouillir le cerveau, la canicule écrasante me faisait tourner la tête; tenaillé par la soif, les oreilles bourdonnantes, les yeux battus, c’est à peine si je voyais encore clair. La poussière du chemin couvrait mon habit, déjà en loques, et se collait à la sueur qui me dégoulinait sur tout le corps. Je marchais, fatigué, quand soudain j’aperçus devant moi, à une demi-heure de marche, la tache blanche d’une ville arrosée par deux cours d’eau. Me sentant une force nouvelle, j’oubliai mon état d’épuisement et accélérai l’allure. J’atteignis le rivage. Deux larges rivières s’écoulaient tranquillement et baignaient de leurs eaux les murailles de la cité.
Je me souvins que mon père m’avait raconté quelque chose à propos d’une ville célèbre, où les nôtres avaient abondamment versé leur sang, et ce qu’il m’en avait dit me revint comme dans un rêve: elle avait une position tout à fait similaire, au confluent de deux amples rivières.
Sous le coup de l’émotion, mon cœur bondit; j’ôtai mon couvre-chef; une brise tout droit venue des monts rafraîchit mon front en sueur. Levant les yeux au ciel, je tombai à genoux et m’exclamai à travers mes larmes:
— Dieu tout-puissant! éclaire-moi, écoute la prière de l’orphelin qui erre dans le vaste monde à la recherche de sa patrie, à la recherche de la terre où a vécu son père…
Un vent léger soufflait toujours des montagnes bleutées qu’on apercevait au loin, mais le ciel se taisait.
— Dis-moi, toi cher vent qui souffle de ces montagnes bleutées, sont-elles celles de ma patrie? Dites-moi, vous chères rivières, est-ce le sang de mes ancêtres que vous lavez des orgueilleux remparts de cette fière cité?
Tout était muet, tout se taisait, mais c’était comme si un tendre pressentiment, une voix secrète me disait:
— C’est le pays que tu as tant cherché!
Tout à coup, un murmure me fit dresser l’oreille. Sur la rive, à peu de distance, j’aperçus un pêcheur. Il avait amarré sa barque et radoubait ses filets. Dans ma douce exaltation, je ne l’avais pas remarqué. Je m’approchai et lui souhaitai le bonjour.
Il me regarda sans un mot mais détourna aussitôt les yeux pour se remettre à l’ouvrage.
— Quel est donc le pays qu’on voit là-bas, de l’autre côté du fleuve? demandai-je, tout tremblant d’impatience en attendant sa réponse.
Il eut un geste comme pour dire «Qu’est-ce que j’en sais moi!», mais finit par lâcher du bout des lèvres:
— Oui, il y a bien un pays là-bas!
— Et il s’appelle comment?
— Ça, je ne sais pas. Tout ce que je sais, c’est qu’il y a un pays, mais je n’ai pas demandé son nom.
— Et tu viens d’où, toi? insistai-je.
— Bah, chez moi, c’est là-bas, à une demi-heure d’ici. C’est là que je suis né.
«C’est bizarre, ce ne doit pas être le pays de mes ancêtres, ce ne doit pas être ma patrie» me dis-je en mon for intérieur, avant de lui demander tout haut:
— Alors, tu ne sais vraiment rien sur ce pays? Qu’est-ce qu’on en dit? Rien de particulier?
Le pêcheur réfléchit puis lâcha ses filets. On avait l’impression que quelque chose lui revenait en mémoire. Après un long silence, il dit:
— Il paraît qu’il y a pas mal de porcs, dans ce pays.
— Il n’est connu que pour ça? demandai-je étonné.
— Pour ses âneries aussi, mais ça ne m’intéresse pas tellement! fit-il, impassible, avant de se remettre à remmailler ses filets.
Ne trouvant pas sa réponse très limpide, je l’interrogeai de nouveau:
— Quel genre d’âneries?
— Tous les genres possibles, répondit-il blasé, en étouffant un bâillement.
— Alors comme ça, des porcs et des âneries! Tu n’as entendu parler de rien d’autre?
— À part les cochons, on dit qu’ils ont beaucoup de ministres, qui à la retraite, qui en disponibilité, mais ils ne les exportent pas à l’étranger. Ils n’exportent que leurs cochons.
Imaginant que le pêcheur se fichait de moi, je m’énervai:
— Arrête tes boniments! Tu me prends pour un imbécile?
— Si tu me paies, je t’emmène sur l’autre rive, comme ça tu pourras voir par toi-même. Ce que je te raconte, je l’ai entendu dire. Je n’ai pas été là-bas, moi, je ne sais pas tout ça de source sûre.
«Impossible que ce soit le pays de mes illustres ancêtres, si célèbre pour ses héros, ses exploits et son brillant passé» me dis-je. Cependant, le pêcheur avait éveillé ma curiosité par ses réponses étranges à mes questions, et je résolus donc d’aller voir aussi ce pays-là – n’en avais-je pas déjà vu tant d’autres au cours de mon périple! Je fis affaire avec lui et pris place dans sa barque.
Il rama jusqu’au rivage, empocha la somme dont nous étions convenus et, après que j’eus mis pied à terre, t’en retourna dans son esquif.
Иступање на III конференцији за школску хигијену и народно просвећивање
III конференција грађана београдских
Држана 23. јануара 1905. год. код „Коларца“
Председавао председник
Милан Ј. Андоновић
Проф. Вел. Школе
Почетак у 9¼ часова пре подне.
[Конференција је започета уводном речју председника М. Ј. Андоновића,и врло брзо је попримила карактер јавних расправа какве је Домановић у својим делима пародирао. Ради уштеде простора, одломак ће бити ограничен само на оне делове у којима је Радоје добио реч, што је донекле штета, јер се губи на сликовитости сцене, али надамо се да ће и ови кратки исечци пружити довољно јасну слику. Пре директно цитираног дела, било је осам различитих говорника, с нимало кратким излагањима. Прим. ур.]
Михаило Јовић. – […] Али, што се тиче ручнога рада, о коме се говори у четвртој тачки резолуције, ја не признајем збору компетенцију, да он може да реши једно такво питање о ручном раду. Ја пристајем, да поднесемо и ту жртву, да се и таквим питањима бавимо, само, молим вас, да изберемо један одбор, јер ако буде сваки од нас своје мишљење заступао, неће никад ништа од нас бити. Показаћемо само, да смо Срби и ништа више!
Радоје Домановић, књижевник. – Изгледа ми, да смо се ја и г. [Миливоје] Тадић чекали. Он је казао, да би волео, да чује још којега предговорника, па онда да узме реч. А ја опет волим, што сам дошао на ред после њега, и чуо, како он удара у фине жице.
Код нас Срба има две врсте људи: једни, који нешто хоће, и други, који неће ништа. И међу тим, који неће ништа, увек има елемената, који хоће да сметају онима, који нешто добро желе. Молим вас, сутра нека дођу десет памуклијаша, и нека кажу: да се договоримо код Коларца, пошто ћемо на идућем вашарау продавати памуклије. На тај договор дођу и други, који хоће да смешају и револуције и еволуције, и други свет сваке сорте, и онда се почну договарати. На том збору памуклијаша устане неко, па каже: Молим вас, ја сам тишлер, шта је са даскама? Устане други по занимању шустер, па каже: А молим вас, шта је са ципелама, шта је са кожама? За тим, устане трећи, па каже: шта је са хлебом, шта је са брашном?
Ја бих био за то увек, да такви људи, који су друге струке, другог позива, и који би хтели сасвим друго нешто да се реши, нека сазову конференцију, па нека се на њој договарају специјално о својим стварима. А оне људе, који су дошли на ову конференцију, и хоће о нечему другом да се договоре, нека оставе на миру, да се о својим стварима људски договарају.
Г. предговорник Тадић је мишљења, да оваква питања треба да се решавају код нас у Србији, као што то бива у страним западним државама путем еволуција и револуција. Ми нисмо тај страни свет. Кад ми постанемо Енглези и Французи, онда ћемо и ми тако да питања решавати. Али за сада, ми морамо да решавамо онако, како се код нас те ствари могу решавати. Оно истина, и у нас се покадшто чудновато ради, устане, на прилику, један посланик па каже: сви Срби треба да живе у води, као што живе рибе. На то му други каже: па, молим вас, како ћемо живети у води као рибе, кад немамо шкрга; направите нам шкрге, па ћемо живети као рибе.
Председник. – Молим вас, господине Домановићу, говорите о ствари.
Радоје Домановић. – (продужује): Ја сам за то: ко хоће да говори о хигијенским приликама, нека говори само о томе, а који би хтели, да се о нечему другом договарају, нека иду у другу кавану.
Др. Светозар М. Марковић. – Господо, присутници ове конференције могу се поделити у две групе, на оптимисте и песимисте. – Ви знате значај тих речи; управо, једни, који хоће да раде, и други, који би хтели да остане стари каламбур, који данас влада […]
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Миливоје Тадић, правник. – Г. Домановић и г. др. Марковић, не разумевајући мој говор, пали су у грешку, из које су извели закључај, да ја спадам у ону групу људи овде, који одричу сваки рад томе одбору. Питања, која је г. др. Марковић третирао, јесу друштвена питања, и господа, која су учествовала у дискусији, она су почела гледати, и разматрати узроке свих зала друштвених, наравно, на свој начин. Не схватајући та друштвена зла, г. др. Марковић, – а са њим се у начелу слаажу сва господа говорници, – предлаже нам избор одбора, који би имао за задатак, да изврши известај препорођај […] Све културне тековине, све оне лепе ствари, којима се одушевљава г. др. Марковић, резултат су од победе радничке странке, која је, узев политичку власт у појединим самоуправним чињеницама – општинама, могла да изведе те ствари, или која је својим јаким организацијама приморала било државу било самоуправна тела, да на тако добрим основама, како је г. др. Марковић изнео, постави просветне установе. А што је пак код нас на овако мизеран и по огромну масу народа убиствен начин основана школска настава и школовање, узрок је, што је сву власт у држави и самоуправним телима приграбила у своје руке капиталистичка класа, док напротив радничка класа за сада својим слабим организацијама не може да даје тако јаког отпора тој капиталистичкој класи […]
Радоје Домановић. – Кад је г. Тадић тако почео говорити, ја ћу онда да говорим о словенској филологији! (осмејкивање)
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[након дуже расправе која се није дотицала школске хигијене, приступило се избору чланова одбора, прим. ур.]
Др. Св. М. Марковић. – […] ако ко има против ове кандидационе листе, нека говори слободно.
Рад. Домановић. – Ја бих желео прво и прво, да видимо, да ли су ови људи овде. Ако ко није овде, он не води рачуна о овим стварима, и не интересује се њима, те држим, да би требало одавде да се изабере одбор.
Др. Св. М. Марковић. – Ако Ви, г. Домановићу, сматрате, да треба одавде да се изабере одбор, сазовите Ви конференцију, јер ја не могу да имам посла с људима, који неће да раде, ни да долазе на седнице, него седе у каванама. […]
Конференција је трајала до 11¾ час. пре подне.
СТАЛНИ ОДБОР: Милан Ј. Андоновић, Борислав Б. Тодоровић, др. Коста Д. Николић, Мих. Ј. Викторовић, Г-ђа Јелица А. Весовићка, Лазар Ј. Обрадовић, Васа А. Симић, Др. Свет. М. Марковић.
ЗАМЕНИЦИ: Бор. Ј. Поповић, Др. Мил. Н. Јовановић, Жив. Ј. Јуришић, Мих. Вукчевић, Станиша С. Станишић, Мих. М. Станојевић, Лепосава Бошковићева.
Напомена: Овај је одбор у неколико доцније измењен из разлога, што неки изабрани „нису могли“ на седнице долазити.
Извор: Марковић, Светозар М, Три јавне конференције за школску хигијену и народно просвећивање (по стенографским белешкама), Београд 1905, стр. 111–165.
Радоје Домановић 