Page:Five Russian plays and one Ukrainian.pdf/194

 rebuild our temple, so hard it is for us to rise out of the dust of slavery’s dishonour. Shame fell upon our arms that rose not to take the lives of us conquered, but rose to labour for the enemies. Leprosy covered the bodies of the girls of Zion, that they drowned not themselves in the Euphrates, but went to entertain the sons of lasciviousness and nurse the fruit of their shame. And shame covered my lips that from hunger these lips grew not still, but spake the strange speech in those cursed courts where all songs sound—and only that which bursts from the heart must die. Infamy oppresses us worse than chains, it bites worse than iron fetters. To suffer chains is inhuman shame, to forget them unbroken yet greater ignominy. Two paths we have, death or disgrace, till we find a way to Jerusalem. Brothers, let us look for a way to the temple as the gazelle seeks water in the desert, that the mighty foe may not say, “Now have I slain Israel; it is dead!” And ere we find it, let us fight for our life as the wounded badger in the hunt; let it not be said among men, “The Lord of Israel fell asleep in Heaven.” O Babylon, too early is it to rejoice! Still our