Page:The Kobzar of the Ukraine.pdf/118

116 Drag these fetters
 * in my jail?

Because, perchance,
 * my own Ukraine

I shall see again. Again I shall pour out
 * my words of sorrow

To the green groves
 * and rich meadows.

No family have I of my own
 * in all Ukraine,

Yet the people there
 * are different from these foreigners

I would walk again
 * among the bright villages

On the Dnieper's banks
 * and sing my thoughts
 * gentle and sad.

Grant me,
 * Oh God of mercy

That I may live
 * to see again

Those green meadows,
 * those ancestral tombs.

If Thou wilt not grant this.
 * Yet bear my tears

To my Ukraine.
 * Because, God,

I die for her. It may be that I shall lie
 * more lightly in foreign soil