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Albanian Literature

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The Battle of Kosovo, also known as the Battle of Kosovo Polje, which took place north of Prishtina on the morning of 15 June 1389 (28 June old style), was a major event in the Ottoman conquest of the Balkan Peninsula. Much of the factual history surrounding the battle has, however, remained obscure.

According to tradition, Sultan Murad I (r. 1359-1389), who had been occupied pacifying Asia Minor, returned to the Balkans and brought together a huge coalition of forces from among his southern Serbian, Bulgarian and Albanian vassals, many of whom were Christians, such as Constantine Dejanovich and the famed Serb leader Marko Kraljevich, enemy of Lazar. The opposing forces under Prince Lazar of Serbia und King Tvrtko of Bosnia were a coalition including Bosnian troops under Vlatko Vukovich, the Vlach contingents of Voyvode Mircea, the troops of Lazar’s son-in-law Vuk Brankovich and Albanian forces under George Balsha and Demeter Jonima.

Ottoman forces won the day and both leaders, Lazar and Sultan Murad, met their deaths. According to legend, Sultan Murad was assassinated. One version has it that the knight Milosh Obilich or Kobilich, taunted and insulted by Vuk Brankovich, slipped heroically into the imperial tent and stabbed the sultan to death, before being killed by the guards.

The Battle of Kosovo has been a central theme of southern Balkan legendry over the centuries. The splendid Serb songs of the battle are well known. There are, however, also songs preserved in the collective memory of the Albanians, that are less known in the world at large. Some of these Albanian Songs of the Battle of Kosovo are relatively complete, whereas others are sketchy. A representative sample of them is presented here in English.

Here is a synopsis, by Anna Di Lellio, of the legend that serves as a basis for the Songs of the Battle of Kosovo:

The epic tells the story of Murat, son of the first Ottoman sultan Ohran. Murat is a pious man who lives his life according to the law of Islam. One night an unsettling dream wakes him up. He tells his mother that he has seen two eagles perched on his right shoulder, stars fall to earth and the sun and the moon plunge into the ocean. The court interpreter reads this as an announcement of battle and death: the eagles have come to gather the army and conquer Kosovo, where Murat and many of his men will find their death as martyrs.

The Sultan calls on all towns to contribute troops for his campaign, and 70,000 answer the call to fight. He then gives anyone who does not have the heart to leave his family behind, or is not pious enough, permission to go back home. Only half of the men start the long march to Kosovo.

Upon reaching the ocean, the Sultan prays for God to separate the water and let the army cross on dry land. Once on the other side, again he addresses his army. He calls once again upon his men to leave behind all regrets or go back home, but also to behave like religious men or abandon the mission. 12,000 renew their vow to fight to their deaths and make their way to Thessaloniki and Skopje. There, they stop by a river to rest.

The next battle at the Kaçanik Gorge takes a heavy toll. Dust and smoke make it impossible for anyone to see the battlefield. Only when the Sultan prays to Allah does the air clear, making it possible to count the dead. Vowing vengeance, the Sultan promises that he will make his men wade knee-deep through a river of enemy blood. He then addresses the troops for the third time and asks whether anyone committed an impious act, thus causing the downfall.

When a soldier confesses to having plucked an apple from a tree, the Sultan redirects his army back to the river in search of the owner of the orchard. The soldiers must ask for his forgiveness or give him a monetary compensation. It turns out that the owner does not want any money, but asks to be appointed Grand Vizier, a demand that the Sultan accepts. The soldiers ready for battle again by performing ablutions and prayers. Arriving in Golesh, they find no water to assuage their thirst. The Sultan asks God for help, and when he strikes a boulder with his fist, water pours out copiously. On the next battle in Ferizaj, God answers the Sultan’s prayers again and makes him victorious.

Once in Prishtina, Murat sees seven fortified castles on the mountain of Çiçavica. He learns from the Grand Vizier that seven bailiffs live there and are always at war with each other. Then, he sends the local lord Millosh Kopiliq a message, in which he demands that all the keys of the castles be surrendered in order to avoid battle. Kopiliq is at first uncertain of what to do. When his wife tries to reassure him that the Sultan would not harm them, he loses his patience, punches her in the jaw, and breaks her teeth. He then sets out to reach Peja and talk to the king.

The king answers the request coming from the Ottoman camp with a vow of defiance. He orders Kopiliq to send thirty maidens to the enemy camp to distract the soldiers and spy on them. Contrary to expectations, the maidens are not robbed or molested; they are given hospitality as the Sultan has ordered. Back home to report to Kopiliq, they tell him of the good reception they have enjoyed, but also of the strength of the enemy army, unmatched by their own. Upon hearing this news, Kopiliq decides that the information needs to be dramatically changed in order not to demoralize the king into surrender. He orders the maidens to complain about mistreatment and describe a weary Ottoman army, struck by the plague.

That message inevitably provokes the king to prepare his army for battle. Kopiliq asks for time and announces his plan to meet the Sultan alone and either establish an allegiance between equals, or kill him. When he reaches the Sultan’s tent, Kopiliq tells the sentries that he wishes an audience and is let inside.

The Sheh Islami advises the Sultan not to give the visitor his hand, but rather kick him and make him grovel at his feet. That decision seals his fate. Kopiliq stabs Murat with his dagger, kills him, and flees the scene. Many Ottoman soldiers try to capture him but to no avail, till they meet an old Slav woman, who reveals the secret of Kopiliq’s seeming invulnerability: the metal armour protecting both the warrior and his horse, whose key lies hidden in Kopiliq’s whiskers.

Following the old woman’s advice, the soldiers lay their sabres on the ground, slash the horse’s ankles, and capture Kopiliq. He is about to be decapitated when he is granted his last wish: he asks for the old woman to be brought to him, so he can tell her of a well-paid job to be done on his behalf. As she approaches, Kopiliq sinks his teeth into her and flings her miles away.

When the soldiers decapitate him, Kopiliq tucks his head under his armpit and flees in the direction of Salabanj. Spotted by a girl who is washing garments in the river with her mother, he drops his head. Before dying, he curses the two women, “Headless I, may you be eyeless!” and blinds them. Had the priests gathered to mourn him managed to build a church before dawn, Kopiliq would have had a chance to come back to life. They almost succeed, but a tile is missing when the rooster crows. Kopiliq is buried where he has fallen, and water with healing powers springs miraculously from this site.

The news of the Sultan’s death reaches the court. His mother curses Kosovo and its people, and then dies heartbroken. Back in Kosovo, people mourn the loss of their homes. A mother and her daughter fleeing Kosovo sigh that they will only return when the Turks are defeated.

[The songs presented here are taken from the volume: Anna Di Lellio: The Battle of Kosovo, 1389, an Albanian Epic. Translations by Robert Elsie. ISBN 978-1-84885-094-1 (I.B. Tauris, in association with The Centre for Albanian Studies, London 2009) 199 pp.]

Songs of the Battle of Kosova of 1389
Version One, published in 1923 by Gliša Elezović





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Once there was a Sultan Murat.
When he finished his ablutions
And he said his evening prayers,
He then went to bed for sleeping,
Fell asleep and started dreaming,
From his sleep a dream awoke him,
So the sultan stirred and got up
From his bed, and started thinking.
Once again he did ablutions,
Then returned to bed for sleeping,
And again he started dreaming,
From his sleep a dream awoke him,
So the sultan stirred and got up,
To his mother did he call out:
“Mother dear, what can you explain
To me two dreams I’ve been dreaming?”
“Tell the dreams, boy,” said the mother.
“In them did arrive two eagles,
And they perched on my right shoulder,
All the stars fell from the heavens,
Fell to earth and there did gather,
Sun and moon plunged in the ocean.”
“Good news, son,” replied the mother,
When the Lord brought back the morning,
Look how Sultan Murat acted:
“Go and call the dream exegete,
Go and call the Sheh-Islami,
Go and call the Grand Vizier,
Go and call the army general.”

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All four of them were awakened,
And they hastened to the sultan,
“What is it you want, oh Father?”
“I have had a dream while sleeping,
You must now explain it to me.”
“Tell your dream,” they urged the sultan,
And the sultan started telling:
“In it there were two white eagles,
And they perched on my right shoulder,
All the stars fell from the heavens,
Fell to earth and there did gather,
Sun and moon plunged in the ocean.”
What replied the dream exegete?
“Those two eagles that arrived and
Settled, perched on your right shoulder
Came to seize the holy banner,
Came to gather up the army,
Came to set out for Kosova,
Came to occupy Kosova,
Came to give their lives in battle.
Sun and moon plunged in the ocean
Came to give their lives in battle.
Sun and moon won’t warm without you.”
Look what Sultan Murat did then:
All the towns he telegraphed with:
“Bring unto me all the army,
Bring unto me all the pashas.”
They assembled all the army,
And amassed before the sultan.
Look what Sultan Murat did then:
Lo, he seized the holy banner,
And he then approached the army:
“Listen, lads, to what I tell you,
I’ve decided I am ready,
Want to march upon Kosova.”
Then he counted all his soldiers,
Seventy thousand men he numbered,
Look what Sultan Murat said then:
“Listen, lads, to what I’m saying,
Should a man here have regrets, or
Should your parents be dear to you,
Should your children be dear to you,
Go back home, you have permission,
I will pay you to return there.”
Many soldiers left the sultan,
Forty thousand did forsake him,
Thirty thousand did stay with him.
On his march the sultan set out,
When he came upon the ocean,
Ships and vessels drew near to him,
Look what Sultan Murat did then.
Putting his men in the vessels,
Did he feel so sorry for them,
Raised his hands to the Almighty:
“Allah, oh thou God of Justice,
Pull the ocean back and let me
O’er dry land lead forth the army,
And the Lord did hear his pleading,
From both sides pulled back the waters,
With his troops he crossed the ocean,
When he reached the other coastline,
Did he pause to rest his army,
Look what Sultan Murat said then:
“Listen, lads, to what I tell you,
Should a man here have regrets, or
Should your parents be dear to you,
Should your children be dear to you,
Go back home, you have permission,
I will pay you to return there.
You who’ve eaten foods forbidden,
You who’ve not prayed for five hours,
I don’t want to have you with me,
Go back home, you have permission,
For with you will fail the fighting,
Go back e’er the waters flood in.”
Many soldiers did return home,
Eighteen thousand homewards ventured.
With the sultan stayed twelve thousand.
Look what Sultan Murat did then.
Raised his hands to the Almighty.
Listen to his exhortation:
“Well, what do you say, my fighters?”
Hear the army, what it answered:
“Listen to us, Father Sultan,
We have no regrets to be here,
May the Lord ne’er separate us,
We’ve not eaten foods forbidden,
We’ve prayed in the last five hours,
We are ready to die with you.”
Look at how the sultan rose up,
Praising Allah with the army.
When they finished their ablutions,
They at once set off for battle,
Nowhere pausing for refreshment,
Till Salonika they entered.
Forward, forward, into battle,
On to Skopje did they travel,
Stopping nowhere on their journey,
Till they entered into Skopje.
There he paused to rest the army.
Close beside them was a river,
There a soldier glimpsed an apple,
And the soldier took the apple,
Only once he bit into it,
Then he stuffed it in his pocket.
“Let’s get going,” so they set off,
One another praising Allah,
Once again they left for battle,
And it was a mighty battle.
Dust and smoke arose around them,
Many soldiers fell in fighting,
When Kaçanik Gorge they entered,
Was the fight there even stronger,
And the sultan could not stop it,
Many fellows died in battle,
Sheh-Islami perished fighting,
Sheh-Islami and his nephew,
Died in fighting the Grand Vizier,
The Grand Vizier and his scion.
Wearied was the army fighting,
Dust and smoke arose around them,
Men could not see one another.
Look what Sultan Murat did then.
Raised his hands to the Almighty:
“Allah, oh thou God of Justice,
Pull back all the smoke around me,
Let me see where stands my army,
All at once the smoke was lifted,
Murat gathered up his army,
“Are you weary, my brave fighters,
Hard-pressed, have we many losses?”
“We’re not weary, Father Sultan,
Of our men have many fallen,
Sheh-Islami is among them,
Sheh-Islami and his nephew,
Died in fighting the Grand Vizier,
The Grand Vizier and his scion.”
Sorry felt the sultan for them,
Swore an oath to the Almighty:
“I will not get through this war till
Blood is flowing round our kneecaps.”
Look what Sultan Murat said then:
“Listen, lads, to what I’m saying,
If some of you fruit have eaten
of your  comrades’ toil, then stay here,
For the war’s not going well now.
Those who’ve not prayed for five hours,
Step aside because the fighting
Is not going well among us.”
To him did the army answer:
“No forbidden fruits we’ve eaten,
We’ve prayed in the last five hours.”
Then one soldier did step forward:
“I, oh sultan, saw an apple,
As we rested at the river,
And I plucked and took the apple,
Only once I bit into it,
Here it is, it’s in my pocket.”
Look what Sultan Murat said then:
“To the river, lads,” he cried out,
“Go back down beside the river,
Find for me that apple tree and
Tell what happened to its owner.
Beg forgiveness of the owner
If the man will not forgive you,
Give him money as he wishes.”
Down the hillside to the river
They returned and saw the apple
Tree upon the riverbank and
Found the owner of the orchard.
Look at what they told the owner:
“From this tree we stole an apple
And we now beg your forgiveness.”
“I will not forgive the apple.”
“Ask your price in compensation,
We will pay for it in money.”
“I will sell you nothing, but I
Want to be proclaimed Vizier.”
Look at what they told the sultan:
“He will not forgive the apple,
Nor will he accept your money,
He asks to be Grand Vizier.”
“Go,” the sultan ordered, “and bring
Back that fellow here to see me.”
Off they went and found the owner,
To the sultan did they bring him,
And the sultan made him Vizier,
On his chest he put some medals,
Look at what Murat said to them:
“Gird your weapons, lads,” he told them,
And the troops did gird their weapons.
Then they finished their ablutions,
Asked of one another pardon.
So again they rose to battle,
Nowhere did they Slavs encounter.
When they finally got to Golesh,
Nowhere was there drinking water,
And of thirst the troops were dying.
So they muttered to the sultan:
“We are all so very thirsty,
Nowhere is there drinking water.”
Look what Sultan Murat did then:
Raised his hands to the Almighty:
“Allah, oh thou God of Justice,
Give us but a drop of water!”
With his fist he beat a boulder,
God at once did give them water,
All the army drank their fill and
All the horses gulped the water,
Water flowed and was left over.
Then they finished their ablutions,
And completed all their prayers.
When the soldiers were well rested,
Did they rise again and muster,
Setting off at once for battle,
Nowhere did they Slavs encounter.
When they got to Ferizaj, did
There occur a mighty battle,
To their knees in blood they waded,
Laden mules and donkeys stumbled,
Then the Lord their prayers did answer,
And the sultan won the battle.
When the army reached Prishtina,
There the sultan deigned to come forth,
While the tents were being raised, and
Took his field glass out to have a
Look at yonder Çiçavica,
There he noticed seven towers,
Seven balozes were in them.
At the towers gazed the sultan,
All the towers had their loopholes,
In a line were all the loopholes.
Then the sultan called his Vizier:
“Tell me, what are yonder towers
With the row of loopholes in them?”
To the sultan he did answer:
“Seven balozes are in them,
Fighting one another daily
From the loopholes built into them.”
To his feet arose the sultan,
Millosh Kopiliq informing:
“Send the keys of your nine castles,
All the keys surrender to me,
Or I will with you do battle.”
To Millosh he sent the message.
He received it and did read it.
Then his wife, inquiring, uttered:
“What’s that letter you are reading?”
Millosh told her of the letter:
“To Kosova’s come the sultan
Yearning with us to do battle,
I don’t know what I should do now.”
To Millosh the wife responded:
“Come on, Millosh, do not worry,
For the sultan cannot harm us.”
Millosh was infuriated,
In the jaw he punched his wife and
Eight teeth to the floor did tumble.
To his feet arose then Millosh,
Well his saddle mare he mounted,
Off to Peć then did he gallop,
There he told the king, proclaiming:
“To Prishtina’s come the sultan,
Saying he’ll with us do battle,
What to do now?” he inquired.
To him did the king then answer:
“I to him will not surrender,
Till I run him through, won’t give in,”
Thus the king did give his answer.
“Make you ready thirty maidens,
In fine garments and fine footwear,
Give them many golden ducats
To impress the Turkish army,
To deceive the horde of soldiers.
And to spy upon his forces.”
Thus the maidens were made ready
Thirty of the finest maidens,
Taking many ducats with them:
“Journey to the sultan’s army,
Try to trick the hordes of soldiers.
While the soldiers take your money,
Find out what their army’s good for.”
To their feet did rise the maidens,
Taking pans of ducats with them,
Leaving for the sultan’s army,
Taking three full days for travel.
No one cast his eyes upon them,
No one with his hands did touch them,
No one stole the money from them,
No one sold them food for money.
In three days they told the sultan:
“We have come, the king has sent us,
We are weary of our journey,
No one gave us food for eating,
No one took our money from us.”
Then the sultan bade his soldier:
“Give them food, lads,” he commanded,
“No one rob them of their money.”
Thus they gave food to the maidens,
No one stole their money from them,
So the maidens journeyed homewards,
Went back to report to Millosh.
Millosh turned to them and spoke out:
“How’s the Turk, maids?” he inquired.
To him did the maidens answers:
“Three days did we spend there with them,
No one laid a finger on us,
No one stole our money from us,
No one cast his eyes upon us,
Hordes of soldiers has the sultan,
You’re unequal to oppose him.”
Look how Millosh then responded:
“When we to the king do venture,
You must talk to him and tell him
I will lop all of their heads off,
You just tell the king about a
Mighty plague that struck the army,
Say they’re weary, almost perished, 
We were captured by the soldiers,
And the fellows took our money.”
Millosh set off with the maidens
To the king did they all venture.
There the king spoke to the maidens:
“How’s the Turk, maids?” he inquired.
To him did the maidens answer:
“A mighty plague befell the army,
They are weary, almost perished,     
We were captured by the soldiers,
And the fellows took our money,
They did not have many soldiers.”
What was it the king then ordered?
Many soldiers did he gather,
Made them ready for the battle.
What was it that Millosh uttered:
“Hold your horses, king,” he ordered,
“For I too am getting ready,
I am off to see the sultan,
If the sultan gives his hand, then
I will gladly pay allegiance,
If the sultan give his leg, then
I will slay him with my dagger.”
Millosh girded on his armour,
Had a pobratim go with him,
“Oh pobratim,” he requested,
“Will you deign to set out with me?”
Thus the two men did make ready,
Well their saddle mares they mounted,
And they set off for the sultan.
Soon the sentries captured Millosh,
“Where’re you going?” did they ask him,
“I am off to see the sultan,
For I have something to tell him.”
So they took him to the sultan,
Look at what the sultan did then:
First he summoned Sheh-Islami,
“How should I react,” he asked him.
“For Millosh has come to see me?
Should I shake his hand in greeting?
Should I do so or withhold it?”
They did counsel Sultan Murat:
“When Millosh arrives, don’t give your
Hand, but rather kick the fellow.
Place him at your feet to grovel.”
To them did the sultan answer:
“Bring in Millosh, let him enter.”
Millosh then approached the sultan,
While the sultan tried to kick him,
Millosh had in hand his dagger,
With the dagger did he stab him,
Thus the sultan fell and perished.
Millosh on the spot departed,
Well his saddle mare he mounted,
Set off swiftly on his journey,
Many soldiers did pursue him,
Many soldiers tried to slay him,
But they could not catch and kill him.
When they got to Babimovci,
There they met an old Slav woman,
And they spoke to that old woman,
“What is wrong, Turks?” she inquired.
They responded, saying to her
That Millosh had slain the sultan,
“We can’t catch and kill the fellow.”
To them spoke the Slavic woman:
“Never will you catch that Millosh
For he’s wearing metal armour,
And his mare is decked in armour,
Lay your sabres on the ground to
Slash the mare above the ankles,
Slash the mare and cut her legs off,
That way you will capture Millosh,
When you’ve got Millosh surrounded,
The armour key is in his whiskers.”
What is it the soldiers did then?
On the ground they laid their sabres
O’er the route Millosh was taking,
And they slashed the horse’s ankles,
Thus the mare did topple over,
And alive they captured Millosh.
First they sought to chop his head off,
What did Millosh utter to them?
“I have one request to make you,
Summon forth that old Slav woman,
For I’m longing to behold her,
I’ve a final wish to give her,
And I have to converse with her.”
Thus they brought the Slavic woman,
Look what Millosh muttered to her:
“Come up closer to me, grandma,
For I’ve got a job to give you,
I’ve got lots of wealth to give you.”
Thus the woman did approach him
“Come yet closer to me for I’ve
Something in your ear to whisper.”
With his teeth did Millosh grab her,
Flung her off to Babimovci.
Swiftly they beheaded Millosh
What then did Millosh Kopiliq?
Tucked his head under his armpit,
Off he went and, fleeing, vanished,
On to Salabanj he travelled.
There a woman and a maiden
Who were busy washing garments
Caught a glimpse of headless Millosh.
What is it the maiden stuttered?
“Mother, mother, look and see that
Man who’s passing us is headless!”
To her did Millosh give answer:
“Headless I, may you be eyeless!”
Thereupon did Millosh perish.

* * *

All the priests for him did gather,
In their scriptures was it written:
If a church you can construct there
By the morning e’er the cocks crow,
Millosh will be resurrected.
Thus they started with the building,
Had the whole thing almost finished,
On the walls one tile was missing
When the cocks crowed in the morning.
At that place Millosh was buried,
The Almighty gave them water,
Water which had healing powers.

* * *

What did Sultan Murat’s mother
When she heard about the sultan
Who by Millosh had been slaughtered?
Greatly did the mother mourn him:
“Oh Kosova,” did she cry out,
“Damn Kosova,” did she cry out,
“That has left me without children,
Even though you harvest plenty,
May none there be blessed with fortune,
May there be no bloodless marriage!”
Having said this, did she perish.

* * *

What did say the mother’s daughter?
“Mother, where can we now go to?”
“We must flee the Turks,” she answered.
“When will we be back here, mother?”
“When the Turks, like us, are beaten.”
Çiçavica’s cut off from them,
As it is for us departing,
Then we’ll take back our Kosova.”

[Recited by Hamzë Xhemë Bojkoviqi, also known as Ut Bojko, a rebel from Dërvara near Vushtrria, and first published by Gliša Elezović as “Jedna arnautska varianta o Boju na Kosovu,” in: Arhiv za arbanašku starinu, jezik i etnologiju, Belgrade, 1 (1923), p. 54-67. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie.]

Songs of the Battle of Kosova of 1389
Version Two, recorded in 1931 by Margaret Hasluck

 





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Once there was a Sultan Murad
Who had finished his ablution.
Then he said his evening prayers,
On his right side did he lie down,
And while resting started dreaming,
Dreaming of two doves a-flying,
On his right arm perched a black dove,
Of the dream did he say nothing.
Then he finished his ablutions,
And he said his morning prayers,
Then the Lord did make it evening,
And he finished his ablutions,
And he said his evening prayers,
On his right side did he lie down,
And again he started dreaming,
Dreaming of two doves a-flying,
On his left arm perched a white dove,
And again he went on dreaming,
In the morning he arose and
Said his morning prayers as always,
Yet the dream he told to no one.
Then the Lord did make it evening,
And he finished his ablutions,
On his right side did he lie down,
And again he started dreaming,
Dreaming of two doves a-flying,
On his left arm perched a white dove,
On his right arm perched a black dove.
In the morn what did the sultan?

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Summoned, called the Grand Vizier,
Summoned, called the Sheh-Islami,
Summoned, called up all the imams,
Summoned, called the dream exegete.
To them he the dream narrated,
“If you can’t explain it to me,
I will have the heads chopped off you.”
“All the best, Sire,” they responded,
So the sultan did narrate it,
“This,” he said, “is what I dreamt of,
Towards me were two doves a-flying,
On my left arm perched a white dove,
On my right arm perched a black dove,
Through the air there flew black jackdaws.”
“All the best, Sire,” did they chorus,
“We will now the dream interpret,
Time’s come to invade Kosova,
And Kosova you will conquer,
But you’ll leave this life and perish.”
“May it be so,” he responded,
“I intend to go to battle.”
To his mother did he speak then:
“Mother, I am off to battle.”
“Why, dear son, for war’s depressing?
You’ve got Mecca and Medina,
You possess holy Damascus,
Which grows dates and rice and coffee.”
“Mother dear, what can I tell you?
When my mind dwells on Kosova,
I can’t get a wink of sleep and
Have no appetite for dinner.
Kosova grows wondrous wheat and
Seven dirhams weighs a kernel,
Think of all the mountain pastures,
With the flocks and shepherds roaming,
All those sheep bells clanking, ringing,
Milk and snow the shepherds relish,
Three score thirteen fountains flowing,
Think of all the peaks surrounding,
And the one called Çiçavica,
When I ponder on these things I
Almost lose my mind and reason.”
“All the best, son,” did she answer,
To all towns he sends forth criers,
Gathered full twelve thousand fighters,
“All ye who are faithful Muslims,
Gather ’round me for the battle,
If you’ve got your parents’ blessing.”
Thus he mustered all his army,
All the troops amassed before him,
Line by line he went and asked them,
“If you’ve not your parents’ blessing,
I will give you leave to go home.”
Not a man did him abandon.
When they came up to a river,
Could the army not traverse it,
All the soldiers gathered ’round him,
To the Lord a prayer he offered:
“Oh, Almighty, who are righteous,
If I am indeed the sultan,
Ford a path here through the water.”
And the Lord his prayer did answer.
Him a path cleft through the water.
Line by line the soldiers gathered,
Once again the sultan asked them:
“All those who regret their coming,
Skirt the path here through the water,
I will give them leave to go home.”
Not a single soldier gave up.
“We came with our parents’ blessing
We are ready now for battle.”
“Listen to me, all my soldiers,
If there’s anything you’ve need of,
You must come to me to get it,
I will give you all you’re lacking.
Only swear by the Almighty
That for gold you’ll not betray me,
That you’ll touch no fruits forbidden,
That you’ll touch not other men’s wives.”
All the army then responded,
Giving him their word of honour.
“All of us are men of honour,
And will touch nothing we shouldn’t,
And will nothing do forbidden,
Pious we leave on this journey.”
Then they set out for the battle,
Nowhere could their foes resist them,
They arrived in Salonika
Salonika did they conquer,
They continued on to Skopje,
Skopje also did they conquer.
When they got to Kaçanik
A soldier who’d been led astray
Did stretch his hand out, stole an apple,
Though he did not eat the apple,
And he put it in his kit-bag.
From that time went wrong the fighting,
Though for three days they did battle,
Kaçanik could not be taken.
So the sultan turned and called them,
Gathered ’round him all his army,
Hear what Sultan Murad uttered:
“Listen to me, oh my children,
All your sins do I forgive you,
Now I beg you, tell me truly,
Who has done a thing forbidden?
All your sins will I forgive you.”
One man did a step take forward,
Grabbed the apple from his kit-bag,
Gave the apple to the sultan,
“As we wandered through a garden,
I reached out and took this apple
From the man Jovan the Gardener.”
See how Sultan Murad acted:
Sultan Murad took the apple
Gave it to the Grand Vizier,
“Go and see Jovan the Gardener.”
With a guard they went together,
Gave the apple to its owner,
“Please forgive us for this apple.”
“I cannot forgive the deed for
For all the gold you wish to give me,
All the ducats you may offer,
I cannot forgive the apple,
Stick the apple where you found it
Or make me your Grand Vizier.”
To the sultan went the answer,
“You must make him your Vizier
Then he will forgive the apple.”
So the sultan made him Vizier,
And they ventured off to battle.
No one this time could resist them,
Kaçanik they took and conquered.
At Kosova’s plain they gathered,
See how Sultan Murad acted:
Raised a tent for every soldier,
Tents Kosova’s plain did cover.
How did all the kings react now?
Word they sent to one another,
“With the Turks we can’t do battle.”
They in Peja did assemble,
All to Peja then did hasten.
Always Peja has been crafty.
“Royal monarchs, listen to me,
With the Turk we can’t do battle,
For he has too many forces,
We will play a trick upon him.”
We’ll get ready thirty maidens,
We will dress them up in ducats,
In addition, give them money,
Send them to the Turkish army.
If our maidens they dishonour,
And they try to take their money,
We will then do battle with them.”
They got ready thirty maidens,
Dressed them up in golden ducats,
In addition, gave them money.
To the border did they send them,
To the Turkish camp the maids went,
Through the field camp did they wander
No one cast his eyes upon them.
Through the camp two days they wandered,
Till they’d almost died of hunger.
Word was sent to tell the sultan,
Tell the sultan of the maidens.
“Give them food, don’t take their money!”
Food they gave them, took no money.
So the maidens journeyed homewards,
Went their way back home to Peja,
When they got there, did they utter:
“No one cast an eye upon us.”
Then the kings spoke up, announcing:
We’ve decided to surrender,
With the Turks we can’t do battle.”
Millosh Kopiliqi spoke up:
“When we go to face the sultan,
I will be the first to enter,
If he offers me his right hand,
I will take it in submission,
If it is his foot he offers,
I will slay him with my dagger.”
With this did the leaders set off.
When they reached Kosova’s plain, they
Send a message to the sultan:
“We, the kings, will now surrender.”
“Let them enter,” bade the sultan,
And the way was led by Millosh.
As he entered the red tent, the
Sultan his left foot did offer,
With one hand did Millosh take it,
With the other thrust his dagger,
And the sultan fell and perished.
With their guns they shot at Millosh,
With their swords they tried to smite him,
But they could accomplish nothing,
He was clad in body armour.
Then spoke up an ancient woman:
“Lay your swords down,” did she cry out,
“For their blades will wound the hooves and
Then his steeds will fall and tumble,
He will fall and you will catch him.”
On the ground they spread their sabres
And the horse did fall and tumble,
After Millosh did they hasten,
Brandishing their swords to slay him.
“No, your swords will never wound him,”
Cried to them the ancient woman,
“In his bears the armour key hides,
With it you undo the armour,
Then his head you’ll get to chop off,”
Swiftly they removed his armour,
Got the head for chopping ready,
“Turks, I beg you, grant me respite,
On your souls may God have mercy,
For I have one son, my scion,
Want to give him all my money,
Bring that ancient woman to me,
I will tell her of the money.”
The old crone went up to see him,
By the nose he grabbed and seized her,
Flung her off away three hours.
On that spot they built a bridge, the
‘Ancient Woman’s Bridge’ they called it.
Bosnia turned Turk and with it
Everyone received a message,
Bidding them to talk in Bosnian.

[Recited by Mehmet Haliti from Suhogërlla near Peja. Recorded by Margaret Hasluck in 1931 and published as “An Albanian ballad on the assassination in 1389 of Sultan Murad I on Kosovo Plain” in: Gaster Anniversary Volume, in honour of Haham Dr. M. Gaster’s 80th Birthday, edited by Bruno Schindler in collaboration with A. Marmorstein (London: Taylor’s Foreign Press, 1936), p. 210-233.Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie.]

Songs of the Battle of Kosova of 1389
Version Three, recorded in 1937 by Albert Lord





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When the sultan went to bed he
Fell asleep and dreamt that he had
Sent the army to Kosova,
War upon his foes declaring,
Chieftains of the sanjak perished,
Sheh Islami fell in battle,
With his son did die the Vizier,
Also lost were many soldiers.
From his sleep awoke the sultan
In the morning after dreaming,
Called the imam to be summoned,
Sent the vizier out to fetch him.
Of his dream the sultan told them,
At the sultan frowned the imam,
To his feet arose the vizier,
To the sultan they explained he’d
Have no gain without Kosova,
In the dream God had revealed where
Sultan Murat was to venture.
Sultan Murat called the people
To invite them to a meeting,
Three weeks did the sultan give the
Poor to get their footwear ready,
Those who had none, would receive some.
Those at home who had their rifles
Were to take their weapons with them,
Those who had none, would receive some.
Those with white beans in their households
Were to bring them on the journey

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Those who had none, would receive some.
“In three weeks we meet in Bursa!”
All of Turkey was made ready,
In three weeks they met in Bursa.
Then the sultan waved the banner,
Showing he was on the warpath
And was marching on Kosova.
When the sultan reached the seaside,
What was it the sultan did there?
He announced this with his criers:
“Any who regret their coming,
Those who have no means or clothing,
Let them go back to their households,
For I do not want them with me.”
Very few men turned and left him.
At that time were no boats present,
To the ocean prayed the sultan
And the Lord did part the waters.
Through the ocean crossed the army.
When they reached the other side he
Called the army with his criers:
“Any who regret their coming,
Those who have no means or clothing,
Let them go back to their households,
For the seaway is still open.”
Not a single man forsook him.
At his prayer, the waters closed in
And he set off for Kosova.
When the sultan got to Skopje,
With his foes did he do battle,
Chieftains of the sanjak perished,
Sheh Islami fell in battle,
With his son did die the Vizier,
Also lost were many soldiers.
Pained and worried was the sultan,
Swore a mighty oath proclaiming
On his father’s wealth he’d struggle
With the foe, forever fighting.
Then he called on his commanders,
Sent them off in all directions
Battling, sparing not their brothers.
War began in all directions.
When an hour’s fighting finished,
Rifles, cannons all fell silent,
With their bayonets they slaughtered,
Three days and three nights continued,
Scimitars were e’er a-slashing.
When three days and nights were over
Had the sultan won a victory,
God defeated his opponents.
Blood did cover all the country,
God brought rain upon Kosova,
Gore and rain did mix and mingle,
Making all the springs and fountains
Gush with blood throughout Kosova.
Flooding scarlet all the country.
Sanguine was his father’s sabre.
On the spot the sultan ordered
That the troops invade Kosova.
When the army got to Golesh,
Parched and arid was Kosova,
Thirst did fall upon the army.
What did Sultan Murat do then?
With his boots he kicked a cherry
Tree and Allah gave them water,
To its fill did drink the army.
Then the sultan with a letter
Wrote to Millosh Kopiliqi:
“Send the keys to all your castles
And nine years of tribute pay me.
If not, by the Holy Prophet,
I will ne’er desist in fighting,
Leave you nowhere in this country.”
To Millosh he sent the letter,
Millosh got it and did read it,
Fright and anguish seized poor Millosh,
Forced to give up all his castles,
Forced to pay nine years of tribute.
Millosh now was in a panic,
No way could he stop that power.
Then the queen, his wife, did enter,
“Why the crying?” she did ask him.
“Twenty years we’ve been together,
You’ve received all sorts of letters,
Never have I seen you like this.”
Millosh to the queen responded:
“I have never got a letter
Such as this one from the sultan,
Who’s demanding all the castles,
Calling for nine years of tribute,
By the Holy Prophet swearing
If the keys should not be rendered
That he’ll e’er do battle with me.
I am angry and frustrated
That I have no men to halt him.”
Boldly did the queen give answer:
“Send the keys,” she bade her Millosh,
“Give the tribute to the sultan,
Of the whole world he’s the father,
Hand him all the keys he asks for,
All the tribute he’s requesting.”
What said Avrame Begolli?
“Don’t be in a rush to do this,
Hold back with the keys and tribute,
Let us play a trick upon him.
I’ll select some thirty maidens,
Giving each a pan of ducats.
Send the maidens to Kosova,
To the Turkish hordes unknowing.
If the Turks should tease the maidens,
If the Turks should seize their money,
Then the sultan’s just pretending
And we’ll know he can’t defeat us.
If they do not tease the maidens,
If they do not seize their money,
Then the sultan is not fooling,
We must give up all our castles,
Pay him full nine years of tribute,
We’ve no choice but to surrender.”
He selected thirty maidens,
Giving each a pan of ducats.
To Kosova went the maidens,
Loitered ’mongst the Turkish army,
For three days and nights they lingered,
Not a Turkish soldier touched them,
No one took their money from them.
They were almost dead of hunger,
To Vuçitërn fled the maidens,
Went to visit Gjok the Baker:
“Have you got some bread to give us,
For we’re almost dead of hunger?
We can pay you back with ducats.”
What did Gjok the Baker tell them?
“All the bread you want I’ll give you
But I will not take your money.
Since the sultan’s in Kosova,
Bread a-plenty has God granted,
God’s bestowed on us much money,
Never do we thirst for water,
For the Lord has furnished water,
All the food we want he’s given.”
Gjok took not a single penny.
To Millosh returned the maidens,
Told to Millosh what had happened,
“For three days and nights we stayed there,
Loitered ’mongst the sultan’s army,
Not a single Turk addressed us,
Not a Turk did take our money.”
What did Millosh Kopiliqi?
All the people did he summon,
For three days and nights did fête them,
But determined no solution
For the sultan would destroy them.
With his folk Millosh decided:
“I will go to Sultan Murat,
If his hand he offers to me,
I’ll convert and be a Muslim,
We will all turn Turk and join him.
If his hand he should deny me,
I will slay him with my dagger.”
Millosh dressed up in his armour,
Dressed in armour, too, his stallion,
Millosh then did mount his stallion,
Set off, racing to Kosova
To give answer to the sultan.
Forth rode Millosh Kopiliqi,
All the while the sultan brooded:
“Seeing Millosh Kopiliqi,
Should I give my foot or rather
Should I give my hand to Millosh?”
To the sultan spoke a trickster:
“Why not give your foot to Millosh?”
Thus did he convince the sultan.
With this said did Millosh turn up,
At the tent slid off his stallion,
Through the flap strode to the sultan,
Unmoved stood Murat before him,
Stretched his foot to give to Millosh.
What bad luck did suffer Millosh,
Standing there, he drew his dagger,
Thrust it in the sultan’s stomach,
On the spot the sultan perished.
Millosh Kopiliqi ran out,
Jumped forthwith onto his stallion.
Now Millosh began to battle,
All the soldiers did surround him,
Drew their guns but couldn’t shoot him,
Drew their swords but couldn’t slay him,
As he tried to flee the soldiers.
Did an ancient Slavic woman
Shout unto the sultan’s army:
“This way you’ll not capture Millosh,
Throw your sickles at the stallion,
Let the hooves be slashed to pieces,
For you must remove the armour.”
Swiftly did they find their sickles,
Threw their sickles at the stallion,
Slashed the four hooves of the courser,
To the ground did fall the stallion,
Thus the soldiers captured Millosh,
Then they got the armour off, but
When they sought then to behead him,
Millosh spoke up and did utter:
“I’ve a final wish to give you,
Bring to me that Slavic woman,
For I’ve something I must tell her.”
Swiftly did they bring the woman.
What did Millosh whisper to her?
“Come, old woman of Kosova!”
Near his ear the woman ventured,
In the nose did Millosh gnash her,
Half a furlong did he fling her.
There the ancient woman perished.
Then they chopped the head off Millosh,
Sent the news to Sultan Mehmet
Of the death of Sultan Murat.
Sultan Mehmet rose and set off,
Marching forthwith to Kosova,
Taking all his army with him.
What did Sultan Mehmet do then?
Built a bridge to that old woman,
Ancient Woman’s Bridge they named it.

Songs of the Battle of Kosova of 1389
Version Four, published in 1952 by Anton Çetta





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Once there was a Sultan Murat,
Off to bed he went for sleeping,
In the night the sultan dreamt that
On his shoulder perched two eagles,
Settled down on his right shoulder.
In the morning rose the sultan,
Well performed he his ablutions,
And he said his morning prayers.
Called to him his dream exegetes,
To the sultan came those fellows.
“Father Sultan, why’ve you called us?”
“Hope, my sons, it’s a good omen,
Last night I did have a dream and
Hope it portends well, by Allah,
On my shoulder perched two eagles.”
Hear now what the exegetes said
To explain it to the sultan:
“Father, you must seize Kosova.”
Hear what Sultan Murat did then.
All his Tatars he did summon,
All the Tatars came before him.
“Greetings, Father of all Turkdom,
Why the summons, where’s our error?”
“God protect you, oh my children.”
To them he did give some letters,
“Take one, lads, to Sheh Islami,
Take one to the Grand Vizier,
Take one to the Saracen, too!”
Thus they took to them the letters,

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To their feet arose the nobles,
Well they read the sultan’s letters,
Gathered, mustered all the army.
Endless rows of soldiers lined up
Like the grass and like the forests.
Then the sultan did ablutions,
Taking out the Holy Banner,
He came to inspect his soldiers,
Led the multitude in worship,
All the soldiers lay prostrated.
“All to arms!” the sultan ordered.
Like a dove the sultan led them,
Off they hastened to the seaside,
To the brim was full the ocean,
Then the sultan turned to Allah:
“One and only, hear me Allah,
Open up the sea before me,
Let me pass through with my soldiers.”
Lo, and the request was granted,
Swiftly did recede the ocean,
O’er dry land the army journeyed.
To his men the sultan shouted:
“Listen to me, oh my soldiers,
Should a man regret his coming,
Go back now, the sea’s still open.”
Answering, the army cried out:
“None of us regret our coming.”
To Salonica advancing,
They surrounded and besieged it,
Heavy was the battle ’round it,
Not a force could stop the sultan,
Seven days and nights they battled,
And the sultan took the city,
Added it to his dominions.
Then the sultan set on Skopje,
They surrounded and besieged it,
Heavy was the battle ’round it,
Not a force could stop the sultan,
Seven days and nights they battled,
And the sultan took the city,
Added it to his dominions.
Then he did attack Kaçanik,
They surrounded and besieged it,
Heavy was the battle ’round it,
But the sultan was defeated,
All in disarray the army.
Then the sultan heard a rumour,
Swiftly did he halt the battle,
So the sultan called his buglers,
To the sultan went the buglers,
“Sound your horns, recall the army!”
And the buglers played their trumpets,
Thus recalling all the army,
All the soldiers thus were summoned.
Angrily the sultan scolded:
“You’re defeated and withdrawing,
Many soldiers have been slaughtered,
Sheh Islami and his son died,
With his nephew the Vizier,
Who among you’s sin committed?
Let him step aside and tell me.”
All the army to him chorused:
“Of no sin do we have knowledge.”
Then one soldier rose and spoke up:
“I did stray and sin in Skopje,
Stole an apple from a garden,
Have it with me, didn’t eat it.”
Swiftly did they seize and grab him,
Then the sultan called his horsemen,
To the sultan went the horsemen,
“Set off now and ride to Skopje,
Take this apple to the gardener,
Send the man my warmest greetings,
Ask him to forgive the apple,
Beg the fellow for forgiveness.”
To the gardener did the horsemen
Ride off and arrived in Skopje,
“Warmest greetings from the sultan,
Please forgive him for this apple.”
To his feet arose the gardener,
“Let the sultan make me vizier!”
To the sultan went the horsemen,
Journeyed and reported to him:
“He’ll only forgive the apple
If you make him your vizier.”
Well the sultan sent his answer,
Made the fellow his vizier.
Then he laid siege to Kaçanik,
For three days and nights they battled,
In a fury was the sultan,
And he firmly swore by Allah:
“Either they change their religion,
Or I’ll put them to the sabre!”
Great was the ensuing battle,
Many died, the earth was quaking,
Blood and rain did flow united,
Loads of wood the mules transported,
Wheat was brought in, seven okas.
Kaçanik was seized and taken,
Added to the sultan’s holdings.
Ferizoviq they assaulted,
They surrounded and besieged it,
Heavy was the battle ’round it,
For two days and nights they skirmished,
Not a force could stop the sultan,
Ferizoviq then was conquered,
Added to the sultan’s holdings.
Then the sultan to Kosova
Went, with white tents did he fill it,
From Mashrik to Magrip were his
Tents erected in the landscape.
This was to be his dominion.
Then they all laid down and rested.
To the king he wrote a letter,
Sent the letter off to Millosh:
“Send the keys of seven towers,
With them, seven years of tribute,
Or if you prefer, do battle.”
Millosh did receive the letter,
Well he took it and did read it,
Tears all down his cheeks were streaming.
Millosh’s wife Llatinka asked him:
“What’s the matter, why the weeping?”
“Llatinka, doom will fall upon us,
To Kosova’s come the sultan,
With his tents he’s paved the country!”
To his feet arose then Millosh,
Made his saddle mare all ready,
Millosh leapt into the saddle,
Off to Peja did he hasten,
Where the six kings all had gathered,
To the kings he said, proclaiming:
“To Kosova’s come the sultan,
With his tents he’s paved the country.”
In Sarajevo was the greatest
King, to him they sent a letter:
“To Kosova’s come the sultan
With his tents he’s paved the country.”
But the king of Bosnia would not
Help them and gave them no answer.
He ’gainst Peja’s king was pitted.
Off to Çiçavica went the
Six kings, peered into their field glass,
Saw the tents throughout the country,
Now they were convinced by Millosh.
Hear what Millosh uttered to them:
“What do you intend to do, kings?
I’ll submit to his religion.”
What then said the king of Peja?
“Empty words you’ve spoken, Millosh!”
Millosh now was sorely angered,
For that king was always plotting.
“Make you ready thirty maidens,
Dress them up as for a feast day,
Give them thirty pans of ducats,
Send them to the sultan’s army,
Let them linger with the troops and
Let us hope the goods are stolen.
Let us hope the girls are ravaged,
Then I will make war upon them.”
So the maids went to the army,
But the watch guards stopped their entry,
To the sultan did they send a
Message and informed him, saying:
“Thirty maidens have arrived here,
Should we, sultan, let them enter?”
To the guards replied the sultan:
“Let the maidens enter freely!”
Through the camp the maidens wandered,
No one laid his eyes upon them,
No one snatched their ducats from them,
Till they almost died of hunger,
They approached baker Illia,
Hear now what they told Illia:
“We are stuck in quite a pickle,
Won’t you deign to take our money?
We are dying here of hunger.”
Hark to what Illia told them:
“This is not the day, oh sisters,”
Then he sent word to the sultan,
“Should I give bread to the maidens?”
To Illia said the sultan:
“Give for free whate’er they long for!”
Food galore the maidens gobbled,
To the kings returned the maidens.
Told the kings of what had happened:
“All our duties we accomplished!”
To his feet then leapt up Millosh,
Fetched himself a suit of armour,
Decked in armour, too, his courser,
Well did Millosh mount the courser,
With his troops rode to the sultan,
But the watch guards stopped their entry,
Sent a message to the sultan:
“Should we, sultan, let them enter?”
To the guards replied the sultan:
“Let that Millosh in to see me.”
What did Murat ask his courtiers:
“Should I give my right hand to him?
Or my left foot should I offer?”
“Father, give your left foot to him
As for infidels is custom.”
Millosh they did now bid enter,
Millosh thus approached the sultan,
And was given Murat’s left foot.
With one hand he touched the foot and
With the other drew his dagger,
On the ground spilled guts and liver,
In a day expired the sultan,
Perished, and his spirit left him.
To an end did come the battle,
Not one man could stop brave Millosh,
Shot their rifles, could not hit him,
Brandished sabres, could not slay him.
Then spoke an old Slavic woman:
“Curse upon you, sultan’s soldiers,
Don’t you see how you can catch him?
Lay down all your arms and sabres!”
Sabres sliced the horse’s ankles,
To the ground did fall the courser,
Living did they capture Millosh,
Tried to shoot him, nothing hit him,
Tried their sabres, couldn’t slash him.
Hear now what the woman told them:
“Seven woodpiles must you kindle,
In the pit of fire cast Millosh.”
Hear now to how Millosh begged them:
“Please have mercy, sultan’s soldiers,
Bring to me that Slavic woman,
For I’ve packed much money with me
And I want to give it to her!”
To him did they drag the woman,
With his teeth did Millosh bite her,
Then they took their swords to Millosh,
Lopped his head off, which went flying,
To Magrip did Millosh wander,
Where a girl and mother saw him:
Look, a headless man there, mother!”
“Headless I, may you be eyeless!”
Thereupon collapsed poor Millosh.

 

[Recited by Rrustem A. Kabashi from Polac in Drenica. Published in: Vojislav Dančetović, Anton Çetta & Kadri Halimi (ed.): Kangë popullore shqiptare të Kosovës-Metohis. Bleni i dytë. Prishtina: Mustafa Bakija, 1952, p. 15-21. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie.]

Songs of the Battle of Kosova of 1389
Version Five, recorded in 1954 by Anton Çetta





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Praise be to the Lord Almighty,
Once there was a Prince Llazari
He was quite a wealthy fellow,
Wealthier than all of Europe.
Praise be to the Lord Almighty,
One day Prince Llazari woke up,
Got his sixty pandours ready,
Took them all, the queen to visit,
For a feast on Çiçavica.
Let us see where he is off to,
Brough his sixty scribes all with him,
All the best ones in the country,
For a feast on Çiçavica,
There to drink the cool, fresh water,
There the cool, fresh air inhaling,
Hear now what the king said to them:
“All ye scribes, now listen to me,
Never close your eyes for sleeping,
Do not ask for food or water,
Write the whole day in your notebooks,
Make accounts of all my fiefdoms,
And then bring the notebooks to me.”
Praise be to the Lord Almighty,
Look, the sixty scribes reacted!
Day and night they filled the notebooks,
Never seeking food or water,
Never stopping, never sleeping.
When three days and nights had passed by,
To the king they took their notebooks,

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“Mark our words, king, by your eyelight,
You may chop our heads off but we
Cannot add up all your riches,
Can’t record all of your fiefdoms,
God did give you endless bounty,
Who but God can calculate it?”
How the monarch was delighted!
“Praised be Allah,” did he cry out,
Swore an oath to the Almighty,
“Only does the sea divide us,
Stops me from attacking Turkey,
Sacking Mecca and Medina,
Conquering holy Damascus,
Munching figs and dates forever,
Nevermore in need of foodstuffs.
At the coast the Turks are lurking.”
Then the king lay down for sleeping,
With the queen supine in slumber.
Praise be to the Lord Almighty,
In the night the queen was dreaming,
In her sleep she had a nightmare,
Waking, to her feet she rose up.
Screamed aloud with din and clamour,
Straight away the king did leap up,
“What is wrong, queen, why the screaming?
Never has it been your custom.”
How was it the queen responded:
“By your leave, king,” did she answer,
“I was dreaming, had a vision,
’twas a nightmare, king, God save us!”
“Tell me, good queen, of your nightmare.”
“Oh, my king,” the queen responded,
“Heavy fog befell Kosova,
Many jet-black jackdaws flying,
Praise be to the Lord Almighty,
Many jackdaws, some white-headed,
Many eagles, too, were flying,
And before them a kulshedra
Snapped its jaws and ate your heart out.
I was frightened, woke up screaming.”
His affairs the king did gather,
Off to Krushevc did he hasten,
Thirty priests did he detain there,
Thirty monks did he make prisoner,
“Give my dream an explanation,
Or I’ll chop your thirty heads off!”
What is it the thirty priests did?
What is it the thirty monks did?
Swiftly did they seek their scriptures,
Night and day they read their writ to
Give the dream an explanation
For the king who waited for them.
Praise be to the Lord Almighty,
To the king they then expounded:
“All that fog, king, in Kosova,
Of your breath it is a symbol,
All the jackdaws that you saw there
Are a symbol for your army,
And the eagles that did lead them
Are your officers in battle,
And the kulshedra before them’s
You, commander of the army,
On your path the world to gobble.”
’mongst them was a priest courageous,
To his feet he jumped, proclaiming:
“Listen, sire, to what I’m saying,
All these fellows by you gathered
Dare not tell the bare truth to you,
’round the bush, good king, they’re beating.
By the Lord, good king, who made me,
May he make you healthy, happy,
But your reign will fall and perish,
Sultan Murat’s taken over.
Were I not to bring this message!
With your laws you cannot stop me.
You have asked me, king, directly,
I have given you plain answer,
Twelve days you may hold me prisoner,
Twelve days, when the time is over,
I’d be rescued by the sultan.
If he doesn’t come and get me,
You may freely execute me.”
That night did he have a vision,
Sultan Murat turned up in it.
In the morning did he wake up,
“Everything the sultan’s taken,
All my manors razed and ravaged,
All the glass and windows broken,
All the sentries fled and vanished.
Woe, the sultan has destroyed us.
Let us go to Sheh-Islami,
We will tell of our misfortune.”
When they spoke to Sheh-Islami
Did he rise, proclaiming Allah,
Hastened off to see the sultan,
But he did not dare approach him.
“Woe!” he mourned, “the sultan’s crazy!”
To the Saracen they set off,
To his feet the Saracen rose,
Hastened off to see the sultan,
But he did not dare approach him.
“Woe!” he mourned, “the sultan’s crazy!”
To the Grand Vizier they trotted,
To his feet the Grand Vizier rose,
Hastened off to see the sultan,
But he did not dare approach him.
To his mother did they hurry,
She went off to see the sultan,
Entering the sultan’s quarters,
With a scarf her head to cover.
“Greetings to you,” she addressed him,
“Greetings, may you be victorious.
Tell your mother what has happened.”
“Mother, I have had a nightmare,
Now’s the time to take Kosova.”
“What gain is that barren country
When you’ve Mecca and Medina,
When you’ve got holy Damascus?
You’ve got food galore to live on,
Figs and dates to last forever.”
“Nothing do I own without it,
Çiçavica’s fresh, cold waters,
Shady places there for feasting,
Water turned to white upon it,
Grain, three hundred grams a kernel,
I have nought without Kosova.”
“Pleasant journey does your mother
Wish you, hoping that in Mazgit
You will build a mausoleum.”
With that did depart the mother.
What was it the sultan did then?
Swiftly all this officers he
Summoned and addressed them, saying:
“Officers, now listen to me,
You may think that I am crazy,
It is time to take Kosova.
Let the scribes prepare the call-up,
Let them gather in my fiefdoms
Bring them to me all to Stamboul
I have all their orders for them.”
All the scribes prepared the call-up,
All the fighters went to Stamboul,
Look what said the sultan to them,
Rising to his feet to greet them,
Banner seizing, out he ventured.
When the sultan looked upon them,
All the people there before him,
Hark to what the sultan told them.
When he spoke, the criers clamoured:
“Who will now go with the sultan,
To Kosova goes the sultan,
To Kosova to do battle,
If you want to reap your riches,
You’ll accompany your sultan!”
When he spoke, the criers clamoured:
“If you are an only son I
Swear I will not take you with me,
Homeward go with my permission.
Those of you who have just married,
You, too, will I not take with me,
Pleasant journey home I wish you,
I just want the willing soldiers,
No one will I force to follow.”
Twenty thousand men in Stamboul,
Countless did they all step forward.
Hear now what the sultan shouted:
“In God’s name!” and they departed,
On their journey set off marching.
When the sultan reached the seaside,
When he spoke, the criers clamoured,
Sets of prayers two he offered,
There the sultan begged of Allah,
And, behold, the sea did open,
Thus the sultan walked right through it,
O’er the dry land crossed the ocean.
When he spoke, the criers clamoured:
“Listen to me, all my soldiers,
Should some of you have regrets, then
Go back home, you have permission,
For the sea path is still open,
After that there’s no returning.”
Many soldiers did return home.
Hear now what the sultan uttered,
Sultan spoke, the criers clamoured:
“Listen to me, all my soldiers,
If you men will venture with me,
Turn first, let your shrouds be measured,
Keep them in your kitbags with you,
I will say a prayer for you,
It’s not easy winning fiefdoms.
If you will not join the columns,
Go back home, good journey to you!”
Many soldiers did return home,
Seventeen thousand men in Stamboul,
Prayers twelve thousand did they offer,
Shrouds twelve thousand taking with them,
Stuffed the shrouds into their kitbags,
“In God’s name!” cried and departed,
To Salonika they hastened,
Praise be to the Lord Almighty!
Only two hours did the fighting
Last, Salonika was taken,
All the palaces they captured,
Seized the city and took power.
“See the ducats,” said the sultan,
“Let no one approach or touch them!”
Praise be to the Lord Almighty,
When they reached the Plain of Golesh
All of Golesh did they conquer,
Only two hours was there fighting,
Set themselves up as new rulers.
Praise be to the Lord Almighty,
When the sultan got to Skopje,
There he fought a mighty battle,
For two hours was there fighting,
But he could advance no further,
For three days and nights they battled,
But he could advance no further,
Thus his troops began to waver.
Praise be to the Lord Almighty,
For the sultan was now puzzled.
“What is going on?” he wondered,
“Someone’s done a deed forbidden.”
Look at what the sultan did now,
Called his soldiers to stop fighting,
For three days and nights ’twas quiet,
Three days did the sultan pause there.
Look at what the sultan did now,
’round him did his call his army,
When he spoke, the criers clamoured,
Hearken to how he addressed them:
“Listen to me, all my soldiers,
For I’ve something I must tell you,
Someone’s done a deed forbidden.”
One among you’s stolen something,
Stolen goods will foil the fighting.”
To him did reply the army:
“Of a theft we swear no knowledge.”
Then spoke up a youthful soldier,
To the sultan he admitted:
“Listen to me, oh my sultan,
In a garden I in Skopje
Filched an apple and an onion,
I’ve still got them in my kitbag,
Is this why our war is failing?”
Look at what the sultan did now,
Had the Tatar soldiers seize him,
Who were travelling with the army,
He a bag of ducats gave them,
“Off, you devils, to the garden!
Have a word there with the gardener,
Beg the gardener for forgiveness,
Give him all he wants in ducats.”
What was it the gardener answered,
He who was a Jewish gardener,
What was it the gardener answered,
“I shall ne’er forgive the sultan,
He’s not here to conquer fiefdoms,
He is here my goods to plunder.
Listen,” said he to the Tatars,
“If the sultan should be willing
To appoint me as his Vizier,
If that soldier should agree to
Take as wife my poor blind daughter,
I will then forgive the sultan.”
They returned, informed the sultan.
To the Tatars did he answer:
“Go, my sons, and tell the gardener,
We will pay the bride-price for her,
Teach him how to say his prayers,
Let him thrice profess to Allah,
So that I can make him Vizier,
And the man will wed his daughter.
Do make sure, oh Tatar soldiers,
He becomes a faithful Muslim.”
They returned, informed the gardener
Who performed all his ablutions,
Thrice professing then to Allah,
So the sultan made him Vizier,
And the soldier wed the daughter,
Soon her eyes retrieved their vision,
She became a charming houri.
Then the sultan set to battle,
In two hours’ time in fighting
All of Skopje did he conquer,
Took the city and seized power.
Soon to Kaçanik advancing,
He in Kaçanik did battle,
Heavy fighting did take place there.
To the sultan did men hasten,
“The Vizier and his son have fallen,
Sheh-Islami and his son, too!”
In a fury was the sultan,
Mighty oaths he swore to Allah,
“I will never keep from fighting,
I will take and seize the planet
Till blood bathes the horses’ bridles,
Till this calf is four years older,
Only then will I cease fighting!”
Hear our prayers, oh God Almighty,
And the Lord let loose a rainstorm,
Mixing all their blood with water,
Blood and water all together
Rose and bathed the horses’ bridles,
And that calf was four years older,
Thus the oath came true, it happened,
When the sultan reached Kosova,
Ferizaj had little fighting,
All the town he snatched and conquered.
Look at what the sultan did now,
To the Lord did pray the sultan:
“Stop this wind and rain, Almighty,
Clear the skies of all the showers,
That I see where I am fighting.”
And the Lord did stop the rainfall,
Sending o’er the land a windstorm,
All the smoke and fog dispersing.
God and sultan thus joined forces,
As he’d prayed, was it accomplished.
Mighty oath he swore to Allah,
To a cherry tree he sauntered,
Bent and broke one of its branches,
Fresh, cold water did flow from it,
Fresh, cold water, pure as snow is,
All the soldiers did drink from it,
All the soldiers made ablutions,
Then the sultan stopped the fighting,
Stopped and looked into his field glass,
All Kosova could he see there,
Krushevc Plain did he examine.
There he saw seventy towers,
Seventy towers massed in total,
Side by side with loopholes in them,
Fighting, battling one another,
One was bigger than the others,
This was, yes, the king’s own tower.
Hark to what the sultan then said:
“Is there any soldier ’mongst us
Who has worked here selling boza,
Who has worked here selling halva,
Who’s informed and who can tell me
What the towers in that place are,
Seventy towers in that place there,
One among them looking larger?”
’mongst them was a migrant soldier:
“Sultan, they’re the Krushevc towers,
And the king does own the largest,
Thus the keys to all Kosova,
He is ancient Prince Llazari.”
So the sultan wrote a letter,
Sent it off to Prince Llazari:
“Listen, ancient Prince Llazari,
Cede and give me all Kosova,
Hand me all the keys now swiftly,
To the war grounds come, do battle!”
To the king was sent the letter,
When the king received and read it,
To his feet he leapt a-sweating,
Loudly did he shriek and clamour:
“Oh good God, what’s happened to us?
What’s this letter I’ve been given?
Someone plotted, sent it to me.”
Who helped ancient Prince Llazari?
To his right – Vuk Brankoviqi,
Left was Millosh Obiliqi,
Both these fellows were his in-laws,
Older was Vuk Brankoviqi.
What said Millosh Obiliqi?
“By the Lord that did create me,
To Kosova’s come the sultan!”
What said then Vuk Brankoviqi:
“Listen, Millosh Obiliqi,
You have always been a traitor!”
What did Millosh Obiliqi?
Halfway he unsheathed his sabre,
Ready on the spot to fight him,
What said Millosh Obiliqi?
“You have always called me traitor,
Now I fling to you the gauntlet,
Meet me out on Shala’s war grounds,
With your field glass you will see the
Sultan now who’s in Kosova.”
All three went to Shala’s war grounds,
Bore the silver field glass with them,
All Kosova could they see there.
There, they saw, made out the sultan
Come with all his arms and weapons,
All Kosova decked in tenting,
For the army bread and biscuits!
If a needle’d fallen ’mongst them
It would not have hit the ground there.
What said ancient Prince Llazari?
“By the Lord that did create me,
To the sultan I’ll surrender,
No use making war upon him.”
What said then Vuk Brankoviqi?
“I’ll give up, become a Muslim.”
What said Millosh Obiliqi?
“By the Lord that did create me,
I will not become a Muslim,
Not surrender without fighting.”
Praise be to the Lord Almighty,
What said Millosh Obiliqi?
“Listen to me, king, together
We will plan, make preparations,
Thirty graceful maidens choosing,
We will give them clothes and footwear,
Each a pan of golden ducats,
Send them to the Turkish army.
If they pilfer all the money,
And enslave all of the maidens.
Have no fear to fight the sultan.
Swiftly send them to the sultan,
He’ll not take our fiefdoms from us.
If they do not rob the maidens,
If they don’t enslave them either,
Do not think that we’ll ignore them
For without a battle, fighting,
We will not give up our fiefdoms.”
Swiftly were the maids made ready,
To the Turks they sped with ducats,
Through the soldiers’ camp they wandered,
Day and night they strolled amongst them,
No man cast an eye upon them,
For three days and nights they lingered,
No man paid the least attention.
Hungry were the thirty maidens,
Begged for bread from all the bakers
Who reported to the sultan.
Hark to what the sultan said now:
“Give them food, take not their money.”
Food they gave the thirty maidens,
Thirty maidens ate their fill, and
Then they set off on their journey,
Back to ancient Prince Llazari,
To convey to him their message.
“Speak up, maidens, what has happened?”
Then the maidens started talking:
“Listen to us, oh you people,
With the Turks did nothing happen,
Three full days and nights we loitered
In around the Turkish army,
No one cast an eye upon us,
And we almost died of hunger.”
Thus the thirty maidens answered.
What did ancient Prince Llazari?
Sent a letter to the sultan,
“I will now surrender to you,
And will offer my submission.”
What said then Vuk Brankoviqi?
He wrote also to the sultan,
“I’ll this day become a Muslim,
But don’t rob me of my language
Leave unto me all my customs.”
“May it be!” replied the sultan.
Since that time they have been Bosniaks.
What said Millosh Obiliqi?
“Listen, oh Vuk Brankoviqi,
Listen sultan, you, our sunlight,
All of you have called me traitor,
You’ll see Millosh Obiliqi
When you die upon the war grounds!”
What did Millosh Obiliqi?
To his feet did Millosh scramble,
Well his saddle mare he readied,
Donned his clothes and put his boots on,
Forged a suit of mail as armour,
And the mare in armour covered,
Setting off then for the war grounds,
To Kosova’s plain he hastened.
When the sultan there beheld him
Did he gather all his guardsmen:
“When that Millosh Obiliqi
Comes, I don’t know how to greet him,
His own country he’s defending,
Tell me how I should receive him.
If I give my right hand to him
He, surprised, will show allegiance,
That will be the situation.
If I give my left foot to him
He’ll expect it from his sultan
And forever show submission.”
Heed well what they told the sultan:
“Make the choice you wish, oh father.”
Soon thereafter Millosh entered,
Look at what the sultan did then,
His left foot he offered to him.
What did Millosh Obiliqi?
Took his dagger, felled the sultan,
And the sultan’s soul did leave him.
Swiftly did the soldiers surge but
With their swords they could not slay him.
In their midst was an old woman,
“You have no idea, soldiers,
“Never will you slay this fellow,
He is in a coat of armour,
On the ground now lay your sabres,
For the hooves are unprotected,
Thus the mare will falter, tumble,
And you’ll catch the fellow living.”
On the ground they laid their sabres,
Swiftly was the mare bowled over,
Millosh did they capture living.
Not a sword or sabre’d touch him.
Once more spoke up that old woman:
“Sultan’s soldiers, you know nothing,
You can’t slay him with these sabres,
You must light a fire and stoke it,
And the suit of mail will singe him,
Swiftly he’ll remove his armour.”
So at once they made a fire,
Millosh then took off his armour,
What said Millosh Obiliqi:
“Listen to me, Turkish soldiers,
For I have some things to tell you,
Bring that woman here to see me,
I have so much money with me,
To her will I give the money,
Let the poor old woman hear this.”
Look, they brought the woman to him,
Bound the hands and feet of Millosh.
With his teeth he bit into her
Nose and flung her to the pavement,
Sprawled her out and there she perished.
Then they chopped the head off Millosh.
What did Millosh Obiliqi?
Stowed his head under his armpit,
Swiftly set off on his travels,
Till he reached Kisello Banja,
Left his head there, though still living,
Strolled two hours with no head on.
Then a girl and woman saw him,
“Mother, look, a headless fellow!”
“I be headless, you girl eyeless”
To the ground then tumbled Millosh,
On the spot the maid was blinded,
Millosh’s soul departed and the
Sultan reigned for years five hundred.

[Recited by Halim Dauti (b. 1889) of Vllahia north of Zveçan, in August 1954. He learned this song from Maliq Zhabari who died about 1939. Published by Anton Çetta in: Gjurmime Albanologjike, Prishtina, 1, 1962, p. 263-275. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie.]

Songs of the Battle of Kosova of 1389
Version Six, recorded in 1954





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Once there was a Sultan Murat,
Well performed he his ablutions,
And he said his evening prayers,
Then to bed did go the sultan,
Fell asleep and started dreaming,
As he slept, he had a nightmare
That disturbed the sultan greatly:
“Lo, the moon fell in the water,
All the stars to earth did plummet,
And the sun, by God, stopped moving!
Go and summon my advisors,
Gather ’round me all the learned,
Go and call forth the vizier,
Summon too the Sheh Islami,
Tell your sultan what the dream meant.”
’mongst them was a young advisor,
Who divined the sultan’s nightmare.
“‘And the moon fell in the water,’
This portends great fighting, sultan.
‘All the stars to earth did plummet,’
Many fighters will fall victim,
And the sun up in the heavens,
You yourself, sultan, will perish,
For you’re going to take Kosova,
You’ll need full twelve-thousand soldiers!”
It was on a Friday that the
Sultan to the mosque proceeded,
There he summoned all his heralds,
And he gathered all his soldiers,

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Full twelve thousand men he mustered.
Out before them came the sultan:
“Listen to me, oh my children!
If you’ve any qualms at dying,
If you here regret your coming,
To your homes you may return now!”
“Father, we’ve no qualms at dying,
For we wish to die as martyrs!”
Then the sultan did approach them,
Gave each man a shroud to carry,
Said a final prayer for each one.
So the army set off marching,
Moving ’til it reached the seaside.
Father Sultan said a sura
And, behold, the sea did open,
All the soldiers crossed it safely!
To his men then spoke the sultan:
“Listen to me, oh my children!
If you’ve any qualms at dying,
Go back now, the sea’s still open,
No returning once it closes!”
“We have no regrets, oh father,
For we wish to die as martyrs,
For we want to take Kosova!”
Then the army started forward,
Off to war the sultan sent it.
First of all it moved on Peja,
Twelve full days and nights besieged it,
Firing full with guns and cannons,
’til it snared and captured Peja.
Thence it marched upon Kosova,
Twelve full days and nights besieged it,
Firing full with guns and rifles,
Yet Kosova was not conquered!
Much afflicted was the sultan,
Came out to address the soldiers:
“Listen to me, oh my children,
Have you eaten things forbidden,
Have you any sin committed,
For our war is not succeeding?”
“We have eaten naught forbidden,
Father, we’ve no sin committed.”
At a distance crouched one soldier,
Who no doubt was up to something!
So the sultan then approached him:
“Listen to me well, my youngster,
Is there something you repent, lad?
Have you eaten things forbidden?”
“I have no repentance, father,
I have eaten naught forbidden,
In my bag, however, I’ve an
Apple, I’m the one who plucked it.”
“Tell me, lad, where did you get it?
You must now return the apple
And must pay the price to buy it.”
To the Slav the soldier took it,
“How much money for this apple?”
“Give me nine mules heavy laden
All with gold and I’ll forgive you!”
So nine mules of gold he sent him,
And the deed was thus forgiven.
Once again resumed the fighting,
Twelve full days and nights they battled,
Firing full with guns and cannons,
’til they finally took Kosova.
And the sultan died a martyr!

[Recorded in Karaçeva near Kamenica in 1954. From Këngë popullore historike, vol. 1, No. 5, Prishtina: Instituti Albanologik 2007, p. 73-75. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie.]

Songs of the Battle of Kosova of 1389
Version Seven, published in 1955





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Once the sultan had a dream that
He had conquered all Kosova,
In the morning he did rise and
Summoned all his dream exegetes.
Of the dream he then did tell them.
What replied the dream exegetes?
“It is time to give your life now.”
So the sultan called his heralds,
Loudly did the heralds utter:
“Volunteers, come, join the army,
For the sultan wants Kosova!”
Two, three men came from each household,
Seventy thousand altogether,
Like a he-goat, sultan led them,
From the rear drove Sheh Islami,
When the soldiers reached the seaside
They did hold their pace, desisting,
Waiting for the herald’s orders,
Halting there for him to lead them.
Hear now what the sultan told them:
“Listen to me, all my children,
We must stop and say a prayer here
For the ocean’s blocked our pathway.”
So they stopped and said a prayer,
And the mighty ocean parted,
O’er the sand they crossed the waters.
When they reached the other coastline,
They did hold their pace, desisting,
There the sultan did address them:

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“Take your winding-sheets for it’s
Unsure if we will get back living.
For the ocean’s path’s still open.”
Then they set off for Kosova,
Seizing lands as they surged forward,
Took and liberated Skopje.
When they got to Kaçanik they
Fought a great and heavy battle,
God caused smoke and dust to rise there,
Killed were many of his soldiers!
Then the sultan called a herald,
Loudly did the herald utter:
“Listen to me, all my children,
War is not proceeding well, have
Any of you sins committed?
Perchance pilfered any object?”
All the soldiers answered saying:
“We have taken nothing, father!”
Then a Slavic soldier spoke up:
“When in Skopje in a garden
I was thirsty from exhaustion,
I did pluck and take an apple.”
So the sultan called the gardener:
“Please forgive me for the apple!”
What was it the gardener answered?
“I’ll forgive you for the apple
Only if you make me vizier.”
Vizier he was appointed,
And the fighting then proceeded,
From the curse he did recover.
Angered sorely was the sultan,
Swore an oath there in his fury:
“Young men, old men, all the fighters,
All I’ll capture with my sabre,
I will wound them to their kneecaps,
Make them carry heavy boulders,
Shouldering the donkeys’ wood loads!”
Then the battle started over,
All the lands they liberated,
Till they finally reached Kosova.
Covered white with tents the country,
From Mramor to Gostil Javori,
Korrotica, Peshtretica,
Everywhere their tents were glowing.
Look at what the sultan did now,
He turned ’round and wrote a letter,
Sent it to the king in Serbia:
“Send the keys of seven towers,
With them send nine years of tribute,
Send them or with me do battle.”
Well received the king the letter,
Well he took it and did read it,
What misfortune for his nation,
Tears streamed down upon the missive,
And the queen saw his affliction,
“King, are you in quite a pickle?”
So the king began to tell her
And the queen responded to him:
“Everything he wants we’ll give him,
First,” she said, “comes the Almighty,
Next to him is Sultan Murat!”
Now the king was in a fury,
Swore: “I’ll never cede my country,
Never let the land be conquered!”
Seven Kings he summoned to him,
Told them all about the matter.
One then spoke up and suggested:
“Let us set off now for Peja,
Always Peja has been crafty.”
Then to Peja’s king they hastened.
“How can we resolve this matter?”
What replied the king of Peja?
“Make you ready thirty maidens,
Give them each a pan of ducats,
If the Turks touch maids or money,
We’ll have no choice but to battle.
If however they don’t touch them,
All that they want we will give them.”
Festively they clothed the maidens,
And they set off on their journey,
Went to loiter ’round the soldiers,
Three full days and nights they spent there,
What said Dylber Engjelia?
“Ali, brother!” she cried to him,
“Give us bread for we are starving,
We have ducats here to pay you.”
“I can’t give you any bread without
Permission from the sultan,
I’ve no need for all your ducats,
For this day of ours is Friday,
Like the seed the farmers scatter
Does the sultan pay our wages,
We all go and gather, waiting
In the tent to get our money.”
Father Sultan gave permission,
Gave them leave to feed the maidens.
Back to Serbia went the maidens,
With field glasses did the Seven
Kings observe the maidens coming.
“Tell us how the Turks responded!”
So the maidens did inform them:
“For three days and nights we loitered,
Not a single glance they gave us,
As with hounds they cast bread at us.”
Now the kings were in a panic,
Saying: “We’ve no force to fight them!”
Filled their glasses up with raki,
“Whom should they now drink a toast to?
Let us drink to Jugoviqi,
And to Millosh Obiliqi!”
Millosh downed his glass, replying:
“Let us go now to the sultan,
If his right foot he accords us,
We will all turn Turk before him.
If his left foot he should proffer
In his guts I’ll thrust my dagger.”
The sultan called his dream exegetes:
“Which foot should I offer to them?”
What replied those fortune tellers?
“It is time to give your life now.”
If your right foot you accord them,
To the Slavs you’ll give advantage,
If your left foot you accord them,
To the Turks you’ll give advantage.”
All the kings went to the sultan,
Went to show him their submission,
When the turn then came for Millosh,
He did thrust and plunged the dagger,
Slew the sultan, there he perished!
All the army ambushed Millosh,
But they could not catch or slay him,
He was in a coat of armour!
Off did fly the sultan’s body,
Where his guts and blood were splattered
Rose, they say, a mausoleum.
When they got to Babimofc, a
Slavic woman mourned the sultan:
“Woe to all the sultan’s soldiers,
Striking at the horse’s armour,
Not a drop of blood will fall there.”
And the soldiers understood her,
So they stopped and captured Millosh,
But could not remove the armour.
Now the mourning woman spoke:
“The keys are in his left-side whiskers.”
From those hairs they snatched the keys and
Stripped him of his coat of armour.
What did Millosh then say to them?
“Let me speak to that old woman,
For I have some goods to give her,
And a final wish to bid her.”
Up to see him crept the old crone,
Lent her ear that so he could whisper,
Thinking of the goods he’d give her.
What did Millosh do, however?
By the nose he took and seized her,
Flung her to the ground and killed her.
With their swords lunged forth the soldiers,
Struck Millosh and lopped his head off.
Millosh bent down, grabbed his head and
Ran off in a rush, escaping.
When he got to Gryka e Llapit,
There, two maidens saw him standing:
“Look, a headless man!” they hollered.
“Headless I, may you be eyeless!”
To the ground did fall their eyeballs!
There, a Slavic woman uttered:
“If you want to revive Millosh,
Build a church here in the evening,
Have it by the morn completed!”
So the workers started building,
Readied the foundations for it.
In their midst appeared a serpent,
Blocked the work and would not let them
Finish with the church construction,
Causing thus the death of Millosh!
Bajraktars and sandjak beys both
Prayed that God the earth might open,
Bury in it those two maidens,
So the soldiers would not slay them!
And the earth was cleft asunder,
In it were the two maids buried,
Now two mausoleums stand there!

[Recorded in Rahovec in 1955. From Këngë popullore historike, vol. 1, No. 4, Prishtina: Instituti Albanologik 2007, p. 66-72. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie.]

Songs of the Battle of Kosova of 1389
Version Eight, published in 1998





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Murat the First sits with his legs crossed.
Victory! He’s won Kosova.
Now a lad comes from Drenica
Riding on a snow-white stallion,
Through the army’s ranks he gallops,
Jumps and kneels before the Sultan:
“Majesty, my greetings to you,
I’m an Albanian from this region,
Never broken was your sabre,

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Your advance was ne’er impeded,
Proof you’ve never furnished of this
Better than in Fushë Kosova.
Forthwith have I come to greet you,
Kiss your hand, and bow in honour.”
To him stretched his foot the sultan,
And the lad leapt forth and slew him.
“As a guest you’ve come from Asia
Uninvited to Dardania,
Come to steal our bags of flour,
Take our place here on the planet,
We’ve no need of all your army,
Arbënia has her own defenders,
With their caps your head they’ll cover,
I am Mirosh from Drenica!
Kings and sultans err here often,
Arbënia’s sons cannot be conquered.
On the lad did pounce the soldiers,
Felled him, chopped the head off Mirosh.
Mountain birds do chirp and wonder
Who is climbing up that hillside?
Headless now proceeds that body,
White with snow now turns the mountain.

[Recited by Sali Mani of Tropoja. Recorded in Shkodra in 1998. From Këngë popullore historike, vol. 1, No. 6, Prishtina: Instituti Albanologik 2007, p. 76-77. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie.]