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178 | cZEcHosloVaKia Štefan sandtner (1916–2006) Sandtner studied theology at the Gregorian University in Rome and was ordained as a priest in 1943. He was one of a group of friends who in the spring of 1951 attempted—unsuccessfully—to flee to the West across the Czechoslovak border. While recuperating in a hospital in Bratislava he was arrested and charged with treason. The court sentenced him to fifteen years in prison, most of it in Leopoldov and Mírov. While in the latter, a personal inspection found him in possession of several poems, among them his translation of the Czech poet Václav Renč’s poem to the Virgin Mary, “Loretánske světlo” (The Light of Loreto, first published in 1992), based on the Litany of Loreto. Renč was a Catholic poet and dramatist well known both for his spiritual poems and his translations of Shakespeare. Sandnter admired Renč and had written down a few lines of Renč’s poem so as not to forget them. He was given ten days in solitary confinement and, according to Dobiáš, figured out that for each word of an “illegal” text he would receive one day in solitary. Sandtner was released from prison following the amnesty of 1960, but he was unable to resume any priestly role and had to settle for employment as a construction worker until taking disability retirement in 1968. He subsequently became active as an editor, translator, and poet. Twelve of his books were published by the Slovak Institute of Sts. Cyril and Methodius in Rome and about fifty appeared in Slovakia. His poetry has a spiritual character and is much admired for its formal properties. His verse collection Žalár môj žaltár (Prison My Psalter), which was first published in Slovakia in 1998, was composed while in prison. The following excerpt is from Žalár môj žaltár, reprinted in Básnici za mrežami (Prešov: Vydavatel’stvo Michala Vaška, 2009), 97, and has been translated from Slovak by Harold B. Segel. Hymnus (Hymn) The night above burns, bright sparks fall from starry avenues, I go to pray my poems, I ignite fiery sentries in the temple, a pair of windows peers into the night, a pair of eyes barely rises to the heights, until morning the Earth rotates. And so the psalms of matins surge surge scarred, cZEcHosloVaKia | 179 why do you remind me of everything, lost echo of paradise? Glory to thee, living God! Fresh I sing to thee joy, plaints, and in them I radiate unto thee light from the bars Yesterday, today, and forever. Amen. 1. Peace courses through the sky joyful stars, fateful. Borne in so much brightness to imbibe you as from a well. The spirit sojourns happily on a wide plain of nocturnal beauties. With an eye it grazes along a compass: here is night, where is noon . . . ? 2. Olympian pride, what are we? A poor little shadow in the doorway. Death comes—a queen, in space she easily whirls the starry dust. Death makes all of us equal, at least let us become one in the biers. What we are in space, let us become one, let us adore shadow, dust, and life—fear. ...

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