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My friendly message to my dead, living and unborn compatriots, in Ukraine and not in Ukraine

And it gets dark and it gets light,
And God's day goes by,
And again, the people are tired,
And everything is at rest.
Only I, as if accursed,
I cry day and night
On the crowded crossroads,
And no one sees my plight -
And does not sees and does not guess-
Have become deaf, do not hear

Testament

De-oi muri, mormânt săpaţi-mi
Sus pe o colină –
Unde-i stepa nesfârşită,
Scumpa Ucraină.
 
Pe câmpiile întinse
Niprul între dealuri
Să se vadă, să se-audă
Vuietul de valuri...
 
Şi atunci, când o să piară
Duşmanii din ţară,
M-oi trezi şi voi ieşi eu
Din mormânt afară.
 
M-oi urca eu până-n ceruri,
Unde Domnul şede,
M-oi ruga... Da' pân-atuncea
În Domnul n-oi crede.
 
Îngropaţi-mă, sculaţi-vă,
Jugul nimiciţi-l
Şi cu-al duşmanilor sânge
Sloboda stropiţi-o.
 
Şi-n familia frăţească,
Mare şi slăvită
Pomeniţi-mă cu-o vorbă
Bună, liniştită.
 

THOUGHT by Taras Shevchenko

THOUGHT by Taras Shevchenko
 
The water flows into th’ blue sea,
And never comes out,
A kozak looks for his fate,
But it can’t be found.
The kozak went to the far lands,
The blue sea is waving,
The lad’s heart is patting,
And, the thought is craving:
“where d’ you go without a blessing?
In whose care have you left
The father and your elderly mom,
And your young sweet lassie?
In foreign lands, the folks are strange,
Living with them’ s hard,
There’ll be no one to share concerns,
To talk heart-to-heart”.
The lad’s sitting on th’ other side,-
The blue sea goes high and low,
He thought he would meet his fate,
But he met a woe.
And the cranes are flying right
in perfect flocks home.
The lad’s crying- the olden ways
With thorns, are overgrown.
 
Translation from Ukrainian into English by Ivan Petryshyn