[Contents]Memories of FreedomMemories of FreedomBring sweet sadness to the exile’s heartAnd so lost liberty of mineI dream of thee.Never hast thou seemed to meSo fresh and youngAnd so surpassing fairAs now in this foreign land.Alas! Alas!Freedom that I sang awayLook at me from o’er the Dnieper,Smile at me from there.And thou my only loveRisest o’er the sea so far.In the mist thy face appearsLike the evening star.With thee, my only oneThou bring’st my youthful years.Before me like a sea—Hamlets fair in broad array,Cherry orchards, joyous crowds.This the village, This the peopleWho once as brothersWelcomed me.Mother! Dear old mother!Home of memories fond!Happy guests of days gone by![121]Who gathered there in days gone bySimply to dance in the good old wayFrom evening light till dawn.Do sun-burned youthAnd happy maidenhoodStill dance in the dear old home?And thou, sweetheart of mine,Thou heartsease of mine,My sacred, dark-eyed one!Still amongst them dost thou walkSilent and proud?And with those blue-black eyesStill dost bewitchthe peoples’ souls?Still as of oldDo they admire in vainThy supple form?Goddess mine! fate of mine!How wee maidensGather round thee,Chirping and prattlingIn the good old way.Perchance, unwittingly,The children remember me,One makes a little jest of me.Smile, my heart!Just a little, little smileThat no one sees.That’s all. I, worse luck!Must pray to God in jail.[122]A Scene from Siberia. Shevchenko’s painting.A Scene from Siberia. Shevchenko’s painting.[123]
[Contents]Memories of FreedomMemories of FreedomBring sweet sadness to the exile’s heartAnd so lost liberty of mineI dream of thee.Never hast thou seemed to meSo fresh and youngAnd so surpassing fairAs now in this foreign land.Alas! Alas!Freedom that I sang awayLook at me from o’er the Dnieper,Smile at me from there.And thou my only loveRisest o’er the sea so far.In the mist thy face appearsLike the evening star.With thee, my only oneThou bring’st my youthful years.Before me like a sea—Hamlets fair in broad array,Cherry orchards, joyous crowds.This the village, This the peopleWho once as brothersWelcomed me.Mother! Dear old mother!Home of memories fond!Happy guests of days gone by![121]Who gathered there in days gone bySimply to dance in the good old wayFrom evening light till dawn.Do sun-burned youthAnd happy maidenhoodStill dance in the dear old home?And thou, sweetheart of mine,Thou heartsease of mine,My sacred, dark-eyed one!Still amongst them dost thou walkSilent and proud?And with those blue-black eyesStill dost bewitchthe peoples’ souls?Still as of oldDo they admire in vainThy supple form?Goddess mine! fate of mine!How wee maidensGather round thee,Chirping and prattlingIn the good old way.Perchance, unwittingly,The children remember me,One makes a little jest of me.Smile, my heart!Just a little, little smileThat no one sees.That’s all. I, worse luck!Must pray to God in jail.[122]A Scene from Siberia. Shevchenko’s painting.A Scene from Siberia. Shevchenko’s painting.[123]
Memories of FreedomMemories of FreedomBring sweet sadness to the exile’s heartAnd so lost liberty of mineI dream of thee.Never hast thou seemed to meSo fresh and youngAnd so surpassing fairAs now in this foreign land.Alas! Alas!Freedom that I sang awayLook at me from o’er the Dnieper,Smile at me from there.And thou my only loveRisest o’er the sea so far.In the mist thy face appearsLike the evening star.With thee, my only oneThou bring’st my youthful years.Before me like a sea—Hamlets fair in broad array,Cherry orchards, joyous crowds.This the village, This the peopleWho once as brothersWelcomed me.Mother! Dear old mother!Home of memories fond!Happy guests of days gone by![121]Who gathered there in days gone bySimply to dance in the good old wayFrom evening light till dawn.Do sun-burned youthAnd happy maidenhoodStill dance in the dear old home?And thou, sweetheart of mine,Thou heartsease of mine,My sacred, dark-eyed one!Still amongst them dost thou walkSilent and proud?And with those blue-black eyesStill dost bewitchthe peoples’ souls?Still as of oldDo they admire in vainThy supple form?Goddess mine! fate of mine!How wee maidensGather round thee,Chirping and prattlingIn the good old way.Perchance, unwittingly,The children remember me,One makes a little jest of me.Smile, my heart!Just a little, little smileThat no one sees.That’s all. I, worse luck!Must pray to God in jail.[122]
Memories of FreedomBring sweet sadness to the exile’s heartAnd so lost liberty of mineI dream of thee.Never hast thou seemed to meSo fresh and youngAnd so surpassing fairAs now in this foreign land.Alas! Alas!Freedom that I sang awayLook at me from o’er the Dnieper,Smile at me from there.And thou my only loveRisest o’er the sea so far.In the mist thy face appearsLike the evening star.With thee, my only oneThou bring’st my youthful years.Before me like a sea—Hamlets fair in broad array,Cherry orchards, joyous crowds.This the village, This the peopleWho once as brothersWelcomed me.Mother! Dear old mother!Home of memories fond!Happy guests of days gone by![121]Who gathered there in days gone bySimply to dance in the good old wayFrom evening light till dawn.Do sun-burned youthAnd happy maidenhoodStill dance in the dear old home?And thou, sweetheart of mine,Thou heartsease of mine,My sacred, dark-eyed one!Still amongst them dost thou walkSilent and proud?And with those blue-black eyesStill dost bewitchthe peoples’ souls?Still as of oldDo they admire in vainThy supple form?Goddess mine! fate of mine!How wee maidensGather round thee,Chirping and prattlingIn the good old way.Perchance, unwittingly,The children remember me,One makes a little jest of me.Smile, my heart!Just a little, little smileThat no one sees.That’s all. I, worse luck!Must pray to God in jail.
Memories of FreedomBring sweet sadness to the exile’s heartAnd so lost liberty of mineI dream of thee.Never hast thou seemed to meSo fresh and youngAnd so surpassing fairAs now in this foreign land.Alas! Alas!Freedom that I sang awayLook at me from o’er the Dnieper,Smile at me from there.And thou my only loveRisest o’er the sea so far.In the mist thy face appearsLike the evening star.With thee, my only oneThou bring’st my youthful years.Before me like a sea—Hamlets fair in broad array,Cherry orchards, joyous crowds.This the village, This the peopleWho once as brothersWelcomed me.Mother! Dear old mother!Home of memories fond!Happy guests of days gone by![121]Who gathered there in days gone bySimply to dance in the good old wayFrom evening light till dawn.Do sun-burned youthAnd happy maidenhoodStill dance in the dear old home?And thou, sweetheart of mine,Thou heartsease of mine,My sacred, dark-eyed one!Still amongst them dost thou walkSilent and proud?And with those blue-black eyesStill dost bewitchthe peoples’ souls?Still as of oldDo they admire in vainThy supple form?Goddess mine! fate of mine!How wee maidensGather round thee,Chirping and prattlingIn the good old way.
Memories of Freedom
Bring sweet sadness to the exile’s heart
And so lost liberty of mine
I dream of thee.
Never hast thou seemed to me
So fresh and young
And so surpassing fair
As now in this foreign land.
Alas! Alas!
Freedom that I sang away
Look at me from o’er the Dnieper,
Smile at me from there.
And thou my only love
Risest o’er the sea so far.
In the mist thy face appears
Like the evening star.
With thee, my only one
Thou bring’st my youthful years.
Before me like a sea—
Hamlets fair in broad array,
Cherry orchards, joyous crowds.
This the village, This the people
Who once as brothers
Welcomed me.
Mother! Dear old mother!
Home of memories fond!
Happy guests of days gone by![121]
Who gathered there in days gone by
Simply to dance in the good old way
From evening light till dawn.
Do sun-burned youth
And happy maidenhood
Still dance in the dear old home?
And thou, sweetheart of mine,
Thou heartsease of mine,
My sacred, dark-eyed one!
Still amongst them dost thou walk
Silent and proud?
And with those blue-black eyes
Still dost bewitch
the peoples’ souls?
Still as of old
Do they admire in vain
Thy supple form?
Goddess mine! fate of mine!
How wee maidens
Gather round thee,
Chirping and prattling
In the good old way.
Perchance, unwittingly,The children remember me,One makes a little jest of me.Smile, my heart!Just a little, little smileThat no one sees.That’s all. I, worse luck!Must pray to God in jail.
Perchance, unwittingly,
The children remember me,
One makes a little jest of me.
Smile, my heart!
Just a little, little smile
That no one sees.
That’s all. I, worse luck!
Must pray to God in jail.
[122]
A Scene from Siberia. Shevchenko’s painting.A Scene from Siberia. Shevchenko’s painting.[123]
A Scene from Siberia. Shevchenko’s painting.A Scene from Siberia. Shevchenko’s painting.
A Scene from Siberia. Shevchenko’s painting.
[123]