DATE PLACE

BORN June 13, 1873 Factory

DIED March 17, 1914 Zagreb

Antun Gustav Matoš was a Croatian poet, novelist, columnist, essayist, travel writer.

In Zagreb, where his family settled soon after his birth, Antun Gustav Matoš attended primary school and grammar school. After unfinished high school, his attempt to study at the Military Veterinary Faculty in Vienna failed. He gave up the civic vocation and devoted himself entirely to writing and music.

As a writer, Antun Gustav Matoš appeared in the short story The Power of Conscience in 1892, which, along with Leskovar's Thought of Eternity, announced modernity and was the central figure of Croatian modernism. As a poet he appears relatively late when he has already formed himself as a person and a writer. He wrote poems under the influence of Baudelaire and French poets.

The following year (1893) he was drafted into the army, but in 1894 he deserted and had to leave Croatia, and went to Belgrade. In Belgrade, Antun survived in various ways, playing the cello and writing articles first for "Brothers" by Janko Veselinović, then for Sarajevo's Nada. He also wrote reviews of the theatrical and musical life of Belgrade, he also wrote reviews of stories and novels that were published at the time.

At the beginning of 1898, Antun Gustav Matoš stayed briefly in Munich, Vienna and Geneva, and then went to Paris, where he remained for five years. The Paris period was decisive in the formation of his aesthetic principles. He became thoroughly acquainted with the latest artistic movements, and his experiences with the poetry of Ch. Baudelaire, the French Parnassians and the Symbolists. In those five years he also wrote much of his fictional prose.

God. In 1904, Antun Gustav Matoš returned to Belgrade, where he remained until his final return to Zagreb in 1908, when he was pardoned. During his second stay in Belgrade, two more books were published in Croatia (Ogledi, 1905; Vidici i putovi, 1907). During this period he began to write poems, which he published in various newspapers and magazines, but this part of his opus was published only posthumously.

Finally, in 1908, after a thirteen-year absence from Croatia, Matoš was pardoned and definitely returned to Zagreb. In 1911 and 1913 he traveled to Italy - the first time to Florence, and the second time to Rome, where he wrote his last work, Roman Feuilletons. Living in Zagreb, Antun Gustav Matoš nurtured a bohemian lifestyle, surviving as a professional writer and journalist, constantly in need. At that late stage, he quarreled with all literary and political options in Croatia - in 1909 he resigned from the Pure Party of Rights and publicly parted ways with Josip Franko, polemicized with the Progressives and pro-Yugoslav currents, and as a consistent Starčevićan and anti-clerical fought against the Catholic segment of Croatia. literature and clerical currents in law, and in the 1910s he mostly hung out with young writers (Tin Ujević, Vladimir Čerina, etc.).

Antun Gustav Matoš died of throat cancer, due to wrong treatment (he was treated for a tumor instead of cancer), leaving behind about twenty volumes of collected works printed only in 1973.

1.May 19, 1907

Like Petrarch Laura, I dreamed of you this morning

Within the ancient pious portal,

The flag of your student shone above your head,

Oh, it's not a sleigh, it was a crazy sleigh!

Exile, I hid in the crowd,

A tear fell on my sleeves,

When the Greek bells wept with happiness

And the student flag with the cap fluttered.

You in the church, I - like a beggar swearing outside,

Because every cop could catch me…

Our forty-eighth days are terrible!

It's all harder to be a free Croat,

That is why the sad one wanders through other people's soil without a path,

Like the sound of a bell wandering through the woods.

2.1909

On the gallows. Dry as a stick.

On the prisoner's wall. The wall of shame.

Beneath it is a black crime pit,

murder place, dark as fornication.

I saw that lap somewhere in the country,

because that's the face my mom has,

and similar eyes some beautiful lady:

The road seduced me to a beautiful place!

And instead of her I jumped into the fatal hole

and I wet myself with her bloody sweat

my cheeky cheek like tears.

Because they hang my Croatia,

like a thief, while her name is erased,

for the will I do not know to whom, a bundle in ropes!

3.Acta Apostolorum

She met up to two monks,

One to Rome, the other to Constantinople,

The first rutav ko u hodže bunda,

Another shaves his beard like an actor.

They came to the inn, so you nice

These two pregnant saints are having dinner,

After the meat hits the winch,

Remembering cards and aces.

There, because of the embers, they step on the dispute

Who at some Council of Nicaea,

The guests are already mixing in the quarrel,

So they fight against the codicil.

A holy religious quarrel is made,

Ršum, rusvaj, dogmatic soup,

And in the hustle and bustle fill to the brim

With someone else's food is a friar's bag.

Birtash bloody, shattered jars,

Mlati where the thickest mob is,

And in the scream of the last judgment

They both slipped into the fog of the saint.

They couldn't pay, of course,

The apostles did not pay:

One to Rome, the other to Constantinople,

While the innkeeper prays to God for them.

4.Allegory

From Zenit to Nadir

Striving dragon hat,

A skeptic plays on the wing,

Skeleton, quiet wedding.

With a tear, which is a lyre

Weeping of the world woe,

The victims of all idols are snoring,

Hook human fall.

Hoof, and sparkles,

Carries fresh blood:

It's like a worm under it

Greek vice, once a virgin,

While Hippogriff, Lightning, hits

From Nadir to Zenit.

5.Archiloch

Mrs. Hera as Xanthippe whines,

Frajla Psiha Kupidona loves,

Aphrodite's soldiers are kind,

Virginity Diana prays.

Athens is too much for me,

Nymphs love - you know! - cowboys,

I'm not such a crazy bena after all,

To go to the pigsty because of the fairies.

All from Olympus so beautiful ladies

Il su bèzect, il se kao Vesta

Relationships with the dead are ashamed,

Well, that's how I, unfortunate, disappear.

Any hope for protectorates

What pure muses and beautiful goddesses:

These women with a better world are thrashing,

The poet only beats hawthorns for them.

6.Adventures

Above the doge's house

The mild moon is already fading,

And out of the misty darkness

The slave pulls the slave strong

Over the lead roof,

Our sign in Arjost,

That he would have exactly that day

Help God, or death, or the devil.

In front of the guard, the fog,

While Duvna is like a dream

She thought of that day

Which won't come back again,

Because a new love is already waiting

Let Casanova come to her.

7.Ballad

When I first saw her

Failed senor,

He said to me: - Look at the gypsy!

He came in the choir.

There will be a sweet sun and life like fruit,

I found the buddy my heart wants! -

Dolores, wonderful Dolores!

We immediately unite in unison

Our adventures,

Living off carefree

Like a synecdoche.

The most beautiful was the ancient one in Laten,

Because of her, I smashed a pumpkin to an English jerk -

Dolores, wonderful Dolores!

She served as a model

Instead of me,

Because the waiter, the old God,

For the bohemian old

Who for a field lily and a sparrow in the air.

Why, Dolores, leave me in the dark -

Dolores, why, Dolores?

He once said, "That's enough,"

I'm fed up with you, Dude.

Comedy is not needed,

Newspapers, gendarmes! -

I fell, because he said, and I murmured like a leper,

Dolores, wonderful Dolores!

Two or three years pass

Like three philistines,

I find it in the paper,

Famous with the Minister,

Her. In the blood. At night. Like a lamb: Dolores!

She was slaughtered by a swindler. Suspect. The seas!

Dolores, wonderful Dolores!

I see her - like the first time! -

Eyes - two emeralds,

Such beauties

He didn't look at Baghdad,

We didn't have Lovlas, or Juan, or Paris!

Damn you - damn your killer Paris -

Dolores, wonderful Dolores!

Love pain is the greatest,

Free, ah, sorry:

I'm the biggest culprit,

If your bones

Torn crying in the ice of the hospital,

A place to be anointed by the hands of your king -

Dolores, Dolores, Dolores!

8.The Ballad of the Sunflower

Some conte, otherwise a prince

He was left in the sword without money,

So the conte uzo mali conto,

I mean some aconto,

Going on a near and far journey:

Dear Prince, I wish you a happy journey!

The road was not dangerous and long,

But the count must already be coldat long,

Well the conte is white from the world

Came with the drama of the sunflower,

How to report (former Bell), South,

Because of the advertising contu good friend.

The sunflower is a yellow and ugly flower,

The Oscar that was Wilde's world,

For it is as yellow as gold, as a ducat,

Yellow as a tree and director Dukat,

Yellow as envy, China, Japan, sin,

Yellow as yellow painted laughter.

Conte was a snob with this flower,

Old fashioned Wilde's edge,

Well for the old fashion conte walks

When he wants to lead us by the nose,

Going into a suspicious world

To bring Damin's sunflower.

Than conte for our nice penny

He brought us something new yet,

Well from the land of all kinds of nuncios

He brought us something from D’Annunzio,

Which now celebrates various cannons

And pirates, Roman thieves,

Vojnović's character from Venice

(Who from the pen of some Pecija)

He remembers our smiling eye

One book, called Il Fuoco,

Where the novel is in the middle of Venice

He was a bluff of indiscretion.

But what will you do: conte is not guilty

That Barnum is still alive today,

Well, from the glorious prince's pen

A dramatic novel by a hotelier is running,

A novel that the Boy loves

When he sniffs at someone else's chic.

God knows which literary city

He found the due conte now

The pumping point of his yellow drama

And the attraction of his yellow lady?

If the Prince had asked me,

I wouldn't read those yellows!

9.Fable

All the poultry gathered at the prelo:

Neighbor fox fucks the nation!

They decided to send him boldly

- As always - deputation.

Deputies left the village,

He formed a delegation,

They came to the statesman's seat,

She handed him the declaration.

The master - as always - the company

Slaughter and prepare a snack

All without words and without agreement,

While the parliament stated,

That the neighbor was embarrassed

Violating the clear meaning of the contract.

10.Madman

Drew Pishti Posilovic

Your face, woven from the soul,

As the planet shines when this darkness dies,

And your wives are whole and gentle

It wipes away the tears that suffocate me at night.

Tyrants, demons, evil souls,

I'm guessing your magic trail in vain!

I only know that your spherical voice, dear and gentle,

He could hardly hear the harp from the sky.

Who are you, what are you? My genius, chimera,

Hermaphrodite, the muse of Helicon,

Tribada, conflict, incubation or heterosexuality?

When you look at me, madonna,

My hunger eternal tantalum pears,

The beauty is dumb, the weaving of my soul!

11.The Virgin and the Donor

Pinturicchio

Like a page under the queen's throne,

Similar to the peace of the penitent candle,

Fighting satiated with lewd Babylon,

Eager paradise in the picture at least to acquire,

Folding his arms in front of the pulpit

In the ecstasy of prayer without words,

Sandor VI, Pope, under Madonna

In a robe full of radiant he kneels.

But also this endowment painting

Brekće with the foam of Borgia's Bull,

Dull eyes are friendly,

The virgin will be solved by a sweet face,

The waist and clothes of the papal concubine,

The Witch of Julia Farnese.

12.Canticum Canticorum

I don't know what you are, a shadow or a woman,

I don't know what you are, joy or sorrow,

I don't know what you are, cloud or rainbow,

I don't know what you are, a woman or a shadow.

In your eye, the eye of the holy muses,

Everything is afraid of the abyss as deep as sin,

The red fruit trembles like laughter,

An eternal tear shines in your eye.

At the crossroads - like Ezekiel

Curse of the woman who offers herself - you stand,

In the embrace of another you sweat,

Like a psalm black, like a white lily.

Oh, what are you, say it! Devil or child?

What? A riddle or a riddle?

You are the beginning of my end -

Like bees, thoughts fly around you.

Only your heart yearns for gold,

You - the devil's daughter of the scarlet Saron,

Your beauty is worth millions,

And the old man runs to you like he runs to Suzana.

You have freshness, the Greek smell of the sea,

Under the bosom of the sphinx you hide the nest of the serpent,

Who cherub thy sensuality laughs,

When you separate my vampire, who must.

When I look at those insatiable passions,

That naked laughter that irritates like a dagger,

That temple that the lie has raised to a vile lie,

That shame that the deeper it can no longer fall:

For the rod, I whip like a poor man,

Desiring to strip you of the silk mud,

So to torture you, run over you, beat you

Like a cowardly drunkard,

But strength fails me like a dog

In the shamelessness of your trail you lead,

And when you walk in my heart, in my heart

And you’re still laughing, watching it all!

Damn you are my blessings,

You are the blessing of all my curses,

You are the dedication and the goal of every means

And the crazy meaning of my crazy letter.

I have already given you health and wealth,

I gave you everything: a moaning conscience,

With a bag I gave my soul and honesty,

So when I hug you, I like black Friday.

There's nothing more you can do,

You destroyed me like a war,

You defiled me in the shame of gold,

And now, Kirko, you won't even let me die.

Anathema to you, damn me!

When I saw the sky, I saw again,

Because of you, woman, I cried for the first time,

Damn you, you're so sweet to me!

And I came again, to me like a dog

On a cobweb of passionate lace you lead,

To trample mine, you sell your heart

And you're having fun watching it all.

I don't know what you are, a woman or a hyena.

I don't know what you are, cloud or rainbow,

I don't know what you are, joy or sorrow,

I don't know what you are, a shadow or a mermaid.

13.Capriccio

I saw, I dreamed - anyway:

In the midst of a palace full of glory, wine,

Gigot, costume, harlequin,

A wonderful miracle, a wonderful child,

Worthy of the king's first son,

Under the scarlet canopy

It shines like a biblical lily -

Next to her the sun would be miserable!

Silk on it, heavy crinoline,

As in the portrait of our saint

(Namely Rodrigo Velázquez),

So while the bass and violin are raging,

Nobody knows - scandal and embarrassment! -

That under the skirt someone is hiding ža paža.

14.Magic Flute

It has always played on my soul

Musician satire, naked, pariah,

So when he plays, who from the piano

Utopia rises, dream, Icaria.

Oh how harmoniously the wire of the heart touches

That spirit with the hatred of all barbarians!

Like the September ecstasy of orgy butter

A golden aria clicks to the grave.

Close your eyes, rest your head

On my chest, sweet baby, so,

And listen to the heart, where it rings in rhythm

Our beautiful novel turbulent and slow.

Close your eyes! Orpheus has already arrived,

And behind him a poppy in bloom, love, Morpheus.

15.Guardian

For the ancient curse oppresses that chimney,

No one in the family is strong anymore,

Every glow has long since faded,

In the empty sky a sign of despair;

The fairies left the grove a long time ago,

The contagious air is swamped with fear,

Altars let kuna barren May,

A vampire of darkness yawns on soul and earth.

Through the silent night only one awake voice

A vile trail is watching the thief,

And fearing there, he defends the holy threshold.

Oh home! When everyone left you,

In the darkness, where weak dreams break,

It's not just the dog that left you.

16.Wonderful

Cello, flute, oboe and bass,

And at the ball, as at the wave of the moon,

With a cheek of velvet secrets,

Colombina changes a false voice.

Diana's body is not prettier

With rhythms like a hot string

Which twitches terrible from the lagoons,

When life is just Othello's hour.

Where is he from, from Rome, from Paris?

What is, duvna, ghost il marquise,

Or Venus, always ready to lie down?

With mask symbol, Woman and Mermaid,

It reminds me of Poe (… and Montépino!)

With the eye of a cat, a snake and an emerald.

17.Girls Place Toys

Ljerko, my heart, you are a little doll,

but you have no idea of the meaning of the sad sonnets,

chestnuts in front of the house are a target for your spirit,

there are ten more carnivals to your ball.

You wonder, baby. You stopped laughing

this crazy story. Your holy soul

he still does not dream of the summers of mature summers.

You look at me like they're hugging. You mean — it's a joke.

But the evening will come when you will, like Elvira,

Don Juan sieves and fake cavaliers,

remember the melancholy tenderness of this stanza.

My name will be whispered to you by my muse,

and tears will sob in the blue eye

like behind a dead clown behind a disaster.

18.Homeland From Abroad

Published posthumously

Autumn has come! A cold wind is blowing,

Misery beats me desolate in a foreign land,

I have everything left behind for the clouds ’,

There, - there, ah - in the homeland!

Where the city rises under the hill,

- Our glory sign rejuvenated -

There my happiness darkened,

To never branch me again.

Goodbye, father, and you, mother, - goodbye!

Your child is tormented by hunger and misery,

His heart is poisoned by pain,

It's already bursting with huge food!

Goodbye and you, whose wonderful picture

The spirit follows me like a sweet shadow,

Goodbye, Branko! introduced us to flowers,

No luck, no memories left!

Goodbye, heaven! oh, yes this flutter

Bring my tears to you,

To create them with a pearly greeting

And in your black bosom shakes!

Goodbye, Branko! Honey! without you we

Death is this horrible burial,

And freedom in that foreign country

It's harder for me than slavery!

Goodbye, fields and valleys,

Parish mounds and cliffs,

Dense forests, grape vineyards!

Goodbye and you, Adriatic Sea!

God! When will my thirsty breasts

Get drunk on Croatian air ?!

Homeland! When will your sun

To warm Your faithful son?

The day will come, - oh, before my soul

The son of the sword of Zvonimir flashes,

Rifles hum, flags flutter,

When I hear cannon thunder and crash!

The day will come! Oh, so will I.

Rush home with a brave foot,

But until then - goodbye, dear home,

Croatia, oh wonderful mother, goodbye!

19.Doña Muerte

There in the distance stands the old town,

Glitzy like Toledo, great like Granada:

Eternal monastery shade in the streets,

Eternal twilight reigns over the palaces of sorrow.

Nobody anywhere… Just a pirate, handsome and young,

He is waiting under the gazebo, hoping for something.

But where is Inez? Grave misery everywhere:

The Inquisitor of the Great Death is the ruler of the city.

Where are you, where are you, Inez? - The hero wanders, wanders,

Wander, wander and wander with thoughts without a path

Until he finds, finally, somewhere in the crypt - New.

A nasty skeleton screams in infant silk,

The yellow worm in the stench of the heart roars rottenly:

Out of horror, Juan is already lying on the ground.

20.Two Centaurs

With the soul of a sorcerer, with the magic of Chiron,

Centaur, Parip with the fire of Phoebus,

A dryad, a woman, a nymph lurks,

Eager for white Amazons.

From the spring-water of the blue Helicon,

From the measure of the seven doors of Thebes

All the way to Father Jesus and Heaven

Passion cries out to the demigod bon.

With the heart of a zebra, with the mind of an ungulate,

Abderit (though not a child of a mare,

Our centaur!) Like grandma climate old,

While the fairies of our days, the flowers of Ilica,

They open their jaws in honor of Mulc

And they regret not getting it by their husband.

21.Elegy

Down narrow, and wide up -

You already know, it's a new fashion,

It used to be wide,

Now it is fashionable to walk small:

It will happen to many young geese

That it will fall because of the zippers.

When it's slippery, someone has to fall,

Graceful fall is in vogue;

So be careful when you are born, because you would

What kind of hornbeam could hurt you:

It's dangerous on a pile of snow, too,

When a dangerous colleague is near.

I don't know if the new fashions are to blame

What guys are poorly married today,

Young people today love everything,

But he doesn't care much for us,

Saying they're just bene,

Which today, at a high price, women.

Blessed is he who is blind

She gave a full bag and a fortune.

When you are nice, educated, beautiful,

But when you don't have enough capital,

You will stay in the dew, because only bene

They take women without a dowry.

And men? Which are worth anything

They are usually "black" and without fillers,

Others again, zucchini over water,

They're playing fake cavaliers,

So who hurried our prey

Tickets, pubs, debts and women.

Civilians usually stick

Like some future ministers,

Not knowing that we know well

That they are quite ordinary philistines

They only know how to fall into a mess

Stomach when spoiled have.

Bail because officers are looking for,

They think they're very - very expensive,

As if love is a pound of meat

What money can buy.

God forbid you buy money

Today-tomorrow officer kûpīm.

When I look at how things stand

Critical in every sense today,

I must say for sure that it is evil

For men, and even worse for us,

So I'd like to go to the convent

When I can’t be the middle sex.

Down narrow, and wide up,

The narrow zipper is now fine fashion,

But that will soon be over,

And crinoline will come into vogue,

So the balloon will become a miss

Which is now similar to an umbrella.