Sibila's Tombstone Epitaph Collection (Extended)

The translations are my own and aim to be fairly literal, while still retaining poetic gravitas where needed. Most epitaphs found on stećaks (the type of tombstone in question) are brief and formulaic, but there are many that stick out as rare pristine examples of medieval prose and poetry.

--Unknown--
You cannot yet, but I understand how disappointed the cloud is when it becomes water.
1174th year according to the Lord, if I was not mistaken in counting.

--Krksa and Kalija--
Here lay Krksa and Kalija on their noble land in Ključ. We loved and from love became husband and wife and God gave us many children.
And then twenty years after our first October together, we watched the rainbow and saw that we see differently and made different wishes.
And we marveled that our life together made us more different than we were before.
On the day Krksa died, so did my heart and I.
Do not turn over this tomb, as even now in the moonlight our bones argue over who is right, and who is not, so even in death we grow greater strangers than we were in life.
But if our bones you separate, without one another we would die again and finally in our second death.
1447, when the king of Bosnia was Stjepan Tomaš Ostojić.

--Luka--
Here is laid on the Obradović tomb
Luka, Son of Brajko
I cannot be what you will be.

--Klut--
Here lies
Klut of Dolnjih Strana.

I laid,
exhausted.

I did not believe,
but now I know
that never is the same man
the one who plants the tree
And the one who
In its shade
rests.

I planted trees for long
and I do not regret that.
I regret that I
stopped.

The tear spilled
by the one I loved
is heavier than this tomb
she put over me.

And so it’s not forgotten who I was
she inscribed
that all my life I planted trees
and I rest in this tombs shade.

On the second Tuesday of August 1288.

--Milac Povržen--
Here lies
Milac Povržen
of Gornjih Strana
on his noble land
in Bosnia.

When spring comes
for who knows what time
my frenzied bones
would chase after the scent
of some old,
secret
and others
loves,

And my life was such.
In dreams
I was like a mountain
in thoughts
a knight,
and in life
a dog.

Do not turn over my tomb,
you might see
how you will look
too.

The twentieth day of February 1165 anno domini.

--Father Radin--
Here lies
Father Radin,
who in the land of Bosnia
was a true son,
now buried on noble land
in Vrhbosna.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit
you searched deeper within yourself
than your depth was
and wider than your breadth was

You touched upon everything in the shell of your soul,
everything, you watched,
but neither Him
nor yourself
Did you ever touch.

How are you now,
as you lie motionless,
unneeded in spring rain,
because I learned
that below and above ground
time has a different meaning
and different paths it flows

You kept to the acres,
because you were told to
and others you advised
to keep to them as well
but now you grieve
as you dream
you held the mast,
the sail and the wind
and touched
some untouched strand

Father Radin
May gentle be
below your tomb
eternal darkness.

Deep
too deep
is your dream,
but even deeper is reality

Written by Prehten,
his son,
the one that will leave to sail…
in the 1317th year of waiting in vain for the Almighty to return again.

--Unknown--
Man can see what he has not seen,
hear what he has not heard,
taste what he has not tasted,
be where he has not been,
but always and everywhere,
only himself he can find,
or not find.

I laid down in the year of 1094, when a drought was,
so the sky did not shed a single tear for me.

--Misljen--
Here lies the good guest Misljen of the true Bosnian faith
The landmark was set by the daughter Korija of me and my dear wife Badaca.
You who pass here, go on in peace and mention not and chase not our sins,
Futile is your work. Our days have already been numbered, our nights spent, our sins mist.
Fear your steps, they will cost you your head on the path you tread.
And may you know that a worm that moves now is worth more than all the good deeds Badaca and I did together in life.
The tombstone was cut for us in the year of the Almighty 1273 in Kocerina on noble land, and was inscribed by Dabisa.

--Sermorad Ozrkov--
Here lies on his noble patrimony Sermorad Ozrkov and will lie for long.
When peacefully you pass by my tombstone, if the desire occurs to you to pray to God for the peace of my soul, then pray for your soul, not mine.
For the peace of my soul just mention the name of Grubaca and my soul will quiver until next spring and my good ghost will dream of her.
And if you say her name may God send many good people on your path wherever you may go. In the seventeenth day of March of 1322 AD

--Sulduk--
Here lies Sulduk and the tombstone was engraved by his father.
God, bring peace to the dream of his soul, and You and I, let’s settle a score. You are three in one, and I am now alone, yet even alone I am not afraid of you three.
If injustice is the will of God, then my fate is to be against God.
Son of man, do not turn over the tombstone of my son, it is a monument to God’s error, and may it stay so.
For the peace of my soul ask not, for it cannot find its peace in neither this nor the other world.

--Ljubljen--
Here lies Ljubljen in Vrhbosna born in Vrhbosna and buried on possession on noble land
I was the one who stood on crossroads all his life, reflected, hesitated,
I was the one who wondered why the sky doesn’t age and the seasons spring from it again and again.
And in the room where I dwelt, there was a window, and behind the window infinity. But I persisted to stare at the floor.
And I thought that with my death it will all finally stop. But it didn’t and my death grows older and constricts me ever more.
My tombstone was cut by Dražeta and inscribed by Husan, not to show I was, but so that I am no more. Anno Domini 1258.

--Toloje--
Here lies Toloje.
Do not turn over my tomb, do not interrupt this dream.
Perhaps now will happen what I wanted to happen to me in life.

--Trtisa--
This is the tomb of Trtisa
I lived peacefully, praying to God and thinking no evil.
Here, where my tomb is, I was killed by thunder.
Why, God?
May the hands that turn this over be cursed and damned until I get my answer.
1174 Anno Domini.

--Gorčin-- (tr. by Kole)

And here lies Gorčin, from Soli.

There exist sadder ways to die, but none of them just.

There exist hundreds of sadder roads that the living walk throughout their days, and the dead throughout their death. Why is it that all which is beautiful, like varicoloured birds, is locked in cages?

I lay, and find it bitter. I see everything, I hear everything, there is nothing I do not now know, there is nothing which does not fall under my concern, and yet nary a sigh can I exhale. And because of that I find it even more bitter, as I'm tired of laying like this for such a long time.

Do not pass, young ones, by my tombstone and weep, because you are what I once was, and I see people spending their days like I once did.

Do not pass by my tombstone twice in the same day or I'll bite you!

--Ahmat Stuk--
Here lay Ahmat Stuk on his noble home,
May it be known that since in the field is this mark cut by my brother
Travelers on Earth nor the stars in the sky cannot go astray
1192th year of the Lord in January

--Unknown--
...And I knew to kiss in seventeen ways.
And now I am I, gnawing on stone from within. 1387th year of the Lord.

--Unknown--
Do not turn over my tomb for all that is hope will become illusion and dread.
Year of the lord 1334.

--Unknown--
I do not fear wolves but men. If it was up to wolves, this tomb would outlive
eternity.
1377. when our king was Tvrtko.

--Asta--
Here lay Asta, daughter of Bogčina Zlušić, and I do not wish to lay
How gladly I would walk with you through the fields in the evening and that
kiss that you earned, not just got, give.
Even if the sky burst.
I would not be sorry, nor ashamed.
Onlooker, do not touch this stone, may those who surpass do what I did not, as I only now
know how the soul is burnt with unrequited love.
1422nd year, of when the happy rejoiced, and I died.

--Unknown--
I lived on this Earth for long, for eighty eight years. And with me I took nothing.