Hajdamaki

This is a fragment of a longer poem, "Hajdamaki" by the poet Taras Shevchenko, translated from Ukrainian by Clarence Manning.

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                <title>Hajdamaki by Taras Shevchenko, translated by Clarence Manning</title>
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      <body>
        <l>All things ever come, ever pass, without ending…</l>
        <l>body---how much that is! We in</l>
        <l>Oh! Whence are they coming? And whither they go?</l>
        <l>The fool and the wise man ne’er know of their courses.</l>
        <l>Each lives and each dies... For one bursts into bloom,</l>
        <l>Another has faded, has faded forever,</l>
        <l>The winds spread abroad all the yellowing leaves,</l>
        <l>The sun ever rises as in the past aged,</l>
        <l>The stars are as bright as before in the past,</l>
        <l>And so will they be... <subst>
          <del status="shortEnd">do thou</del>
          <add>come,</add>
          </subst> with thy white face</l>
        <l>Come out to make merry across the blue sky,</l>
        <l>Come out to admire the stream and the fountain,</l>
        <l>The infinite sea, <subst>
          <del status="shortEnd">and</del>
          <add>as</add>
          </subst> thou ever didst shine</l>
        <l>At Babylon, yea, as thou <subst>
          <del status="shortEnd">dest</del>
          <add>didst</add>
        </subst>o'er <subst>
        <del status="shortEnd">their</del>
        <add>its</add>
        </subst>gardens,</l>
        <l>And
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">over</del>
            <add>writ o'er</add>
          </subst> the years that will pass for our sons.
        </l>
        <l>Eternal and placeless - I love to hold converse</l>
        <l>With brother and sister and also with thee,</l>
        <l>And sing to thee tales
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">thou hast</del>
            <add>I once</add>
          </subst> whispered to
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">me</del>
            <add>thee</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>Oh! teach me once more now to deal with my burden.</l>
        <l>l am not alone , and no orphan am I!</l>
        <l>'Tis true I have children, what fare will they suffer?</l>
        <l>To hold them within me - the soul is alive!</l>
        <l>Perhaps
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">they</del>
            <add>it</add>
          </subst> will find
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">that their its life is less bitter</del>
            <add>there there is more joy in heaven,</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>If
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">one will</del>
            <add>someone</add>
          </subst>repeat all those bitter sweet words
        </l>
        <l>Which it had so generously poured out with weeping,</l>
        <l>
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">Which it</del>
            <add>And</add>
          </subst>ever so humbly had sobbed
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">o’er their cradles</del>
            <add>as it sang them</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>No, l will not hide them. Toe soul is alive.</l>
        <l>The heaven is
          <subst>
           <del status="shortEnd">pale blue and it has no fixed dwelling</del>
           <add>without ending or limit</add>
         </subst>
       </l>
        <l>
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">But I will be singing a song to the homeless,</del>
            <add>So when I begin, my own spirit ne’er ends.</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>And what shall it be? Not mere words of deceit.</l>
        <l>Oh! let some one mention the past in this world,</l>
        <l>The unknown dread always this
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">living</del>
            <add>planet</add>
          </subst>to leave–
        </l>
        <l>So think well, my children, you need to remember</l>
        <l>It loved you, my children, the light of the world</l>
        <l>And it loved without ceasing to sing of your fate.</l>
        <l>Until it is sunrise, feast on, all my children</l>
        <l>And I shall continue to
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">summon the</del>
            <add>charm all your</add>
          </subst>band.
        </l>
        <l>Sons of mine, 0 haydamaki! </l>
        <l>Broad's the world, and freedom! </l>
        <l>Sons of mine, go out revel </l>
        <l>And to try your fate! </l>
        <l>Sons of mine, who still are youthful, </l>
        <l>Children still untutored! </l>
        <l>Who of you without your mother </l>
        <l>In the world is practiced? </l>
        <l>Sons of mine! My little eagles! </l>
        <l>Fly to Ukraina! </l>
        <l>Though you grow adult and active, </l>
        <l>Foreign lands 's a hindrance. </l>
        <l>There your spirit gains more knowledge, </l>
        <l>Keeps itself untarnished; </l>
        <l>There,. 0 there.... 'tis hard, my children! </l>
        <l>When they let you in a cabin, </l>
        <l>Jesting they will smile upon you; </l>
        <l>Such, they say, are people; </l>
        <l>All that's written and that's printed</l>

        <l>Even blame[s] the sunlight: </l>
        <l>"Not from there they say light
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">shineth</del>,
            <add>cometh.</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>Right it never stineth. </l>
        <l>That is why it is so needed..." </l>
        <l>What can you be doing? </l>
        <l>You must listen, maybe truly </l>
        <l>Shines the sun in error, </l>
        <l>As the writers real their w<del status="shortEnd">i</del>ritings.</l>
        <l>And the years have wisdom! </l>
        <l>What can they to you be telling? </l>
        <l>Yes, I snow your glory! </l>
        <l>They deceive you, ridicule you, </l>
        <l>Throw you 'neath the benches. </l>
        <l>“Let them feast, they all make answer </l>
        <l>Till the father rises </l>
        <l>And will tell us in our language </l>
        <l>Of our famous hetmans, </l>
        <l>Or the fool will rise and tell us</l>
        <l>In dead words that bore us, </l>
        <l>That there was some strange Yarema </l>
        <l>At the head of all our forces </l>
        <l>in the raids! A fool and folly! </l>
        <l>Beaten they can master nothing; </l>
        <l>Of the Cossacks, of the hetmans, </l>
        <l>Lofty tombs are with us. </l>
        <l>Nothing else remains among us </l>
        <l>And these too they ruin; </l>
        <l>
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">And</del>
            <add>Still</add>
          </subst>
          he wishes us to hearken
          </l>
        <l>To the elders chanting.</l>

        <l>Vain the labor, 0 sir brother! </l>
        <l>If you wish for money, </l>
        <l>Praise
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">that man</del>
            <add>a girl</add>
          </subst>
          and
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">each</del>
            <add>some</add>
          </subst>
          great marvel!
        </l>
        <l>Sing about Mat<add place="above">r</add>yosha</l>
        <l>Or Parasha, who's our pleasure, </l>
        <l>Sultans, spurs, and
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">parquet</del>
            <add>palace.</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>There is glory!
          <subst>
            <del>If you’re</del>
            <add>And he’s singing</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>"See the blue sea playing”, </l>
        <l>He is weeping; and together </l>
        <l>All your group of hearers </l>
        <l>In their  <del status="shortEnd">ill</del> coats of gray…” </l>
        <l>True 'tis, wise men! </l>
        <l>Thank you for the counsel! </l>
        <l>Warm’s the
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">leather</del>
            <add>jacket</add>,
          </subst>but I’m sorry
        </l>
        <l>That <del status="shortEnd">the coat displeases</del> it ill becomes me, </l>
        <l>And your wise advice you're
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">breaking</del>
            <add>treating</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>With a stubborn slander. </l>

        <l>Pardon me and tale without me! </l>
        <l>I will still not hearken, </l>
        <l>Will not call you to my circle; </l>
        <l>You arc wise, gool people, </l>
        <l>I’m a fool and unattended, </l>
        <l>In my little cabin, </l>
        <l>I am singing, I am sobbing </l>
        <l>Like the little children. </l>
        <l>I am singing: "See the the sea", </l>
        <l>Hear the wind a-blowing, </l>
        <l>Black's the steppe ani with its freezes</l>

        <l>Speaks the tomb forsaken. </l>
        <l>I am singing; there are ruins, </l>
        <l>Tombs that rise still higher, </l>
        <l>Till a path the Zaporozhtsy </l>
        <l>To the sea will open; </l>
        <l>Atamans on swift black horses</l>
        <l>
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">Rob and plunder always</del>
            <add>Dash to martial glory</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>'Fore their hosts; the rivers flowing </l>
        <l>'Mid the
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">guns of heroes</del>
            <add>rudy margins</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>Howl and groan in anger
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">grow</del>
            <add></add>
          </subst>
          rising,
        </l>
        <l>Till they sing more fiercely! </l>
        <l>Yes, I hearken and l study, </l>
        <l>Learning from the elders: </l>
        <l>What, my fathers, do you tell me? </l>
        <l>Son, it is not cheerful! </l>
        <l>For the Dn
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">ye</del>
            <add place="above">i</add>
          </subst>
          pr's angry at us,
        </l>
        <l>Ukraina's weeping." </l>
        <l>And I weep. That self-s[]me hour </l>
        <l>In their shining squadrons </l>
        <l>Atamans set out a-marching, </l>
        <l>Captains with their nobles, </l>
        <l>And the hetmans, gold-attired; </l>
        <l>To my humble cabin </l>
        <l>They have come to sit around me, </l>
        <l>And of Ukraina </l>
        <l>They will speak and tell me stories, </l>
        <l>How the Sich was founded, </l>
        <l>How the Cossacks boldly travarsed </l>
        <l>Rapids, rafting downwards,</l>

        <l>How they reveled on the waters,</l>
        <l>Dashed into Scutari,</l>
        <l>How they lit their pipes beloved</l>
        <l>At the Polish fires;</l>
        <l>Then came back to Ukraina,</l>
        <l>How they nobly feasted...</l>
        <l>"Play, kobzar! Pour out, O tapster!"</l>
        <l>And the Cossacks reveled.</l>
        <l>Tapsters pour and grow not weary</l>
        <l>And the feast continues.</l>
        <l>
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">So he sand </del>
            <add>Kobzars sang</add>
          </subst>
          and all the Cossacks
        </l>
        <l>At Hortisa's bending,</l>
        <l>Fill their caps and
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">dream</del>
            <add>dance</add>
          </subst>
          their
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">praises</del>
            <add>dances</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>As the feast continues.</l>
        <l><del>Minstrel</del> Pitchers come and pass around them,</l>
        <l>Dry and empty leave them.</l>
        <l>"Revel, sir, without a tunic!</l>
        <l>Revel, wind, a-blowing!</l>
        <l>Play, kobzar, pour out, 0 tapster,</l>
        <l>While the humor strikes us!”</l>
        <l>Standing side by side the stripling</l>
        <l>Dances with his elders:</l>
        <l>"Fine, 0 children! Good, O children!</l>
        <l>You too will be heroes!"</l>
        <l>Atamans at the high banquet</l>
        <l>Stand
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">not</del>
            <add>there</add>
          </subst>
          with the others;
        </l>
        <l>They are walking, are conversing,</l>
        <l>And the node heroes</l>
        <l>Stand not quiet but tney
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">enter</del>
            <add>‘re dancing</add>
          </subst>
        </l>

        <l>With their aged bodies; </l>
        <l>And I marvel, I am looking, </l>
        <l>Smiling, while I'm weeping. </l>

        <l>I marvel, I'm smiling, I'm wiping my eyelids, </l>
        <l>I’m not all alone, but I live with those men!</l>
        <l>In my little cabin, and on the steppes also, </l>
        <l>The Cossacks are sporting,
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">and singing their pride;</del>;
            <add>the thickets are rustling,</add>
          </subst>
        </l>
        <l>In my little cabin, the blue sea is playing, </l>
        <l>The tomb
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">is rejoicing</del>
            <add>brings its sorrow</add>
          </subst>
          , while rustle the trees.
        </l>
        <l>The maiden is singing, "Grica", as she wanders, </l>
        <l>I'm not all alone; may I live with those men!</l>

        <l>There are all my blessings, money! </l>
        <l>That is all my glory! </l>
        <l>And for counsel I will thank you, </l>
        <l>For the counsel evil! </l>
        <l>Wake with me, while I am living, </l>
        <l>
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">On</del>
            <add>The</add>
          </subst>
          dead words that tore you,
        </l>
        <l>To create lament and weeping; </l>
        <l>Comrades, rise, to greeted! </l>
        <l>And convey our sons' bold footsteps </l>
        <l>On a distant journey. </l>
        <l>Let them go; they will be finding </l>
        <l>Some revered old Cossack </l>
        <l>To inspire in my children </l>
        <l>Those old tears and weeping. </l>
        <l>Be with men and I am speaking! </l>
        <l>I'm the lord of nobles!</l>


        <l>So I'm sitting at the table, </l>
        <l>Singing and narrating! </l>
        <l>Whom to ask? Who is the leader? </l>
        <l>Outdoors it grows lighter, </l>
        <l>Fades the moon, the sun is blazing, </l>
        <l>And the boys are risings </l>
        <l>They have prayed and all aroused, </l>
        <l>They now stand around me. </l>
        <l>Doubting, doubting just as orphans, </l>
        <l>They have begged for counsel. </l>
        <l>"Bless as, father, so they beg me, </l>
        <l>That we may have power. </l>
        <l>Bless us that we find our future </l>
        <l>In the coming ages." </l>
        <l>"You are joking, life's no cabin, </l>
        <l>You are little children, </l>
        <l>Foolish too. For who will Lead you </l>
        <l>With his gallant comrades? </l>
        <l>Who will lead you? Children, answer, </l>
        <l>It is hard for me here! </l>
        <l>I have heard you, l nave hearkened, </l>
        <l>have marked your questions. </l>
        <l>Go among good people; all is </l>
        <l>Written down on paper. </l>
        <l>Study what you have not studied, </l>
        <l>You have been <add place="above">so</add> kind
          <subst>
            <del status="shortEnd">to</del>
            <add>unto</add>
          </subst> me,
        </l>
        <l>You nave teen and richly also </l>
        <l>You have paid as well, </l>
        <l>Tma and mna I know, and oksya</l>

        <l>Little can I tell you. </l>
        <l>What will men remarks? My children, </l>
        <l>Come and we will ask you. </l>
        <l>I have now an aged father </l>
        <l>(Kin I have none living) </l>
        <l>He will give me pleasure with you, </l>
        <l>For he in his wisdom, </l>
        <l>Knows how hard it is to wander </l>
        <l>As a homeless orphan; </l>
        <l>And he has a noble spirit, </l>
        <l>He's a Cossack loyal; </l>
        <l>He is not ashamed to utter</l>
        <l>Words his mother taught him, </l>
        <l>When she nursed him in his cradle, </l>
        <l>Trained him as a youngster; </l>
        <l>Do not be ashamed to utter </l>
        <l>Tales of Ukraina, </l>
        <l>Which the blind old bards repeated, </l>
        <l>Singing in the evening. </l>
        <l>Love those tales, the dumas truthful, </l>
        <l>Sing the Cossack praises, </l>
        <l>Love them ever. Come, my children, </l>
        <l>To the paths of pleasure. </l>
        <l>Had the years ago ne'er met me, </l>
        <l>In the worst of seasons, </l>
        <l>Long ago would I be buried </l>
        <l>In a foreign country. </l>
        <l>And the strangers all soall mock me </l>
        <l>“
          <subst>
            <del>How he</del>
            <add>So, he</add>
          </subst>
          died from freezing".
        </l>


        <l>Hard it is to fight and conquer, </l>
        <l>If you know no motive. </l>
        <l>Times have changed, why dream of visions? </l>
        <l>Let us go, my children! </l>
        <l>If he did not let me perish </l>
        <l>In a foreign country, </l>
        <l>So he will accept you, children, </l>
        <l>Just as his own offspring. </l>
        <l>And for this with pious praying </l>
        <l>Back to Ukrainal </l>

        <l>Farewell, father, in the cabinI </l>
        <l>On your ancient threshold, </l>
        <l>Give a blessing to my children </l>
        <l>For their future journey. </l>

        <l>7.IV.1841</l>
        <l>Petersburg</l>

      </body>
    </text>
</TEI>
Hajdamaki by Taras Shevchenko, translated by Clarence Manning

Unpublished typescript

All things ever come, ever pass, without ending… body---how much that is! We in Oh! Whence are they coming? And whither they go? The fool and the wise man ne’er know of their courses. Each lives and each dies... For one bursts into bloom, Another has faded, has faded forever, The winds spread abroad all the yellowing leaves, The sun ever rises as in the past aged, The stars are as bright as before in the past, And so will they be... do thou come, with thy white face Come out to make merry across the blue sky, Come out to admire the stream and the fountain, The infinite sea, and as thou ever didst shine At Babylon, yea, as thou dest didst o'er their its gardens, And over writ o'er the years that will pass for our sons. Eternal and placeless - I love to hold converse With brother and sister and also with thee, And sing to thee tales thou hast I once whispered to me thee Oh! teach me once more now to deal with my burden. l am not alone , and no orphan am I! 'Tis true I have children, what fare will they suffer? To hold them within me - the soul is alive! Perhaps they it will find that their its life is less bitter there there is more joy in heaven, If one will someone repeat all those bitter sweet words Which it had so generously poured out with weeping, Which it And ever so humbly had sobbed o’er their cradles as it sang them No, l will not hide them. Toe soul is alive. The heaven is pale blue and it has no fixed dwelling without ending or limit But I will be singing a song to the homeless, So when I begin, my own spirit ne’er ends. And what shall it be? Not mere words of deceit. Oh! let some one mention the past in this world, The unknown dread always this living planet to leave– So think well, my children, you need to remember It loved you, my children, the light of the world And it loved without ceasing to sing of your fate. Until it is sunrise, feast on, all my children And I shall continue to summon the charm all your band. Sons of mine, 0 haydamaki! Broad's the world, and freedom! Sons of mine, go out revel And to try your fate! Sons of mine, who still are youthful, Children still untutored! Who of you without your mother In the world is practiced? Sons of mine! My little eagles! Fly to Ukraina! Though you grow adult and active, Foreign lands 's a hindrance. There your spirit gains more knowledge, Keeps itself untarnished; There,. 0 there.... 'tis hard, my children! When they let you in a cabin, Jesting they will smile upon you; Such, they say, are people; All that's written and that's printed Even blame[s] the sunlight: "Not from there they say light shineth, cometh. Right it never stineth. That is why it is so needed..." What can you be doing? You must listen, maybe truly Shines the sun in error, As the writers real their wiritings. And the years have wisdom! What can they to you be telling? Yes, I snow your glory! They deceive you, ridicule you, Throw you 'neath the benches. “Let them feast, they all make answer Till the father rises And will tell us in our language Of our famous hetmans, Or the fool will rise and tell us In dead words that bore us, That there was some strange Yarema At the head of all our forces in the raids! A fool and folly! Beaten they can master nothing; Of the Cossacks, of the hetmans, Lofty tombs are with us. Nothing else remains among us And these too they ruin; And Still he wishes us to hearken To the elders chanting. Vain the labor, 0 sir brother! If you wish for money, Praise that man a girl and each some great marvel! Sing about Matryosha Or Parasha, who's our pleasure, Sultans, spurs, and parquet palace. There is glory! If you’re And he’s singing "See the blue sea playing”, He is weeping; and together All your group of hearers In their ill coats of gray…” True 'tis, wise men! Thank you for the counsel! Warm’s the leather jacket, but I’m sorry That the coat displeases it ill becomes me, And your wise advice you're breaking treating With a stubborn slander. Pardon me and tale without me! I will still not hearken, Will not call you to my circle; You arc wise, gool people, I’m a fool and unattended, In my little cabin, I am singing, I am sobbing Like the little children. I am singing: "See the the sea", Hear the wind a-blowing, Black's the steppe ani with its freezes Speaks the tomb forsaken. I am singing; there are ruins, Tombs that rise still higher, Till a path the Zaporozhtsy To the sea will open; Atamans on swift black horses Rob and plunder always Dash to martial glory 'Fore their hosts; the rivers flowing 'Mid the guns of heroes rudy margins Howl and groan in anger grow rising, Till they sing more fiercely! Yes, I hearken and l study, Learning from the elders: What, my fathers, do you tell me? Son, it is not cheerful! For the Dn ye i pr's angry at us, Ukraina's weeping." And I weep. That self-s[]me hour In their shining squadrons Atamans set out a-marching, Captains with their nobles, And the hetmans, gold-attired; To my humble cabin They have come to sit around me, And of Ukraina They will speak and tell me stories, How the Sich was founded, How the Cossacks boldly travarsed Rapids, rafting downwards, How they reveled on the waters, Dashed into Scutari, How they lit their pipes beloved At the Polish fires; Then came back to Ukraina, How they nobly feasted... "Play, kobzar! Pour out, O tapster!" And the Cossacks reveled. Tapsters pour and grow not weary And the feast continues. So he sand Kobzars sang and all the Cossacks At Hortisa's bending, Fill their caps and dream dance their praises dances As the feast continues. Minstrel Pitchers come and pass around them, Dry and empty leave them. "Revel, sir, without a tunic! Revel, wind, a-blowing! Play, kobzar, pour out, 0 tapster, While the humor strikes us!” Standing side by side the stripling Dances with his elders: "Fine, 0 children! Good, O children! You too will be heroes!" Atamans at the high banquet Stand not there with the others; They are walking, are conversing, And the node heroes Stand not quiet but tney enter ‘re dancing With their aged bodies; And I marvel, I am looking, Smiling, while I'm weeping. I marvel, I'm smiling, I'm wiping my eyelids, I’m not all alone, but I live with those men! In my little cabin, and on the steppes also, The Cossacks are sporting, and singing their pride;; the thickets are rustling, In my little cabin, the blue sea is playing, The tomb is rejoicing brings its sorrow , while rustle the trees. The maiden is singing, "Grica", as she wanders, I'm not all alone; may I live with those men! There are all my blessings, money! That is all my glory! And for counsel I will thank you, For the counsel evil! Wake with me, while I am living, On The dead words that tore you, To create lament and weeping; Comrades, rise, to greeted! And convey our sons' bold footsteps On a distant journey. Let them go; they will be finding Some revered old Cossack To inspire in my children Those old tears and weeping. Be with men and I am speaking! I'm the lord of nobles! So I'm sitting at the table, Singing and narrating! Whom to ask? Who is the leader? Outdoors it grows lighter, Fades the moon, the sun is blazing, And the boys are risings They have prayed and all aroused, They now stand around me. Doubting, doubting just as orphans, They have begged for counsel. "Bless as, father, so they beg me, That we may have power. Bless us that we find our future In the coming ages." "You are joking, life's no cabin, You are little children, Foolish too. For who will Lead you With his gallant comrades? Who will lead you? Children, answer, It is hard for me here! I have heard you, l nave hearkened, have marked your questions. Go among good people; all is Written down on paper. Study what you have not studied, You have been so kind to unto me, You nave teen and richly also You have paid as well, Tma and mna I know, and oksya Little can I tell you. What will men remarks? My children, Come and we will ask you. I have now an aged father (Kin I have none living) He will give me pleasure with you, For he in his wisdom, Knows how hard it is to wander As a homeless orphan; And he has a noble spirit, He's a Cossack loyal; He is not ashamed to utter Words his mother taught him, When she nursed him in his cradle, Trained him as a youngster; Do not be ashamed to utter Tales of Ukraina, Which the blind old bards repeated, Singing in the evening. Love those tales, the dumas truthful, Sing the Cossack praises, Love them ever. Come, my children, To the paths of pleasure. Had the years ago ne'er met me, In the worst of seasons, Long ago would I be buried In a foreign country. And the strangers all soall mock me How he So, he died from freezing". Hard it is to fight and conquer, If you know no motive. Times have changed, why dream of visions? Let us go, my children! If he did not let me perish In a foreign country, So he will accept you, children, Just as his own offspring. And for this with pious praying Back to Ukrainal Farewell, father, in the cabinI On your ancient threshold, Give a blessing to my children For their future journey. 7.IV.1841 Petersburg

Toolbox

Themes:

Hajdamaki by Taras Shevchenko, translated by Clarence Manning

Unpublished typescript

All things ever come, ever pass, without ending… body---how much that is! We in Oh! Whence are they coming? And whither they go? The fool and the wise man ne’er know of their courses. Each lives and each dies... For one bursts into bloom, Another has faded, has faded forever, The winds spread abroad all the yellowing leaves, The sun ever rises as in the past aged, The stars are as bright as before in the past, And so will they be... do thou come, with thy white face Come out to make merry across the blue sky, Come out to admire the stream and the fountain, The infinite sea, and as thou ever didst shine At Babylon, yea, as thou dest didst o'er their its gardens, And over writ o'er the years that will pass for our sons. Eternal and placeless - I love to hold converse With brother and sister and also with thee, And sing to thee tales thou hast I once whispered to me thee Oh! teach me once more now to deal with my burden. l am not alone , and no orphan am I! 'Tis true I have children, what fare will they suffer? To hold them within me - the soul is alive! Perhaps they it will find that their its life is less bitter there there is more joy in heaven, If one will someone repeat all those bitter sweet words Which it had so generously poured out with weeping, Which it And ever so humbly had sobbed o’er their cradles as it sang them No, l will not hide them. Toe soul is alive. The heaven is pale blue and it has no fixed dwelling without ending or limit But I will be singing a song to the homeless, So when I begin, my own spirit ne’er ends. And what shall it be? Not mere words of deceit. Oh! let some one mention the past in this world, The unknown dread always this living planet to leave– So think well, my children, you need to remember It loved you, my children, the light of the world And it loved without ceasing to sing of your fate. Until it is sunrise, feast on, all my children And I shall continue to summon the charm all your band. Sons of mine, 0 haydamaki! Broad's the world, and freedom! Sons of mine, go out revel And to try your fate! Sons of mine, who still are youthful, Children still untutored! Who of you without your mother In the world is practiced? Sons of mine! My little eagles! Fly to Ukraina! Though you grow adult and active, Foreign lands 's a hindrance. There your spirit gains more knowledge, Keeps itself untarnished; There,. 0 there.... 'tis hard, my children! When they let you in a cabin, Jesting they will smile upon you; Such, they say, are people; All that's written and that's printed Even blame[s] the sunlight: "Not from there they say light shineth, cometh. Right it never stineth. That is why it is so needed..." What can you be doing? You must listen, maybe truly Shines the sun in error, As the writers real their wiritings. And the years have wisdom! What can they to you be telling? Yes, I snow your glory! They deceive you, ridicule you, Throw you 'neath the benches. “Let them feast, they all make answer Till the father rises And will tell us in our language Of our famous hetmans, Or the fool will rise and tell us In dead words that bore us, That there was some strange Yarema At the head of all our forces in the raids! A fool and folly! Beaten they can master nothing; Of the Cossacks, of the hetmans, Lofty tombs are with us. Nothing else remains among us And these too they ruin; And Still he wishes us to hearken To the elders chanting. Vain the labor, 0 sir brother! If you wish for money, Praise that man a girl and each some great marvel! Sing about Matryosha Or Parasha, who's our pleasure, Sultans, spurs, and parquet palace. There is glory! If you’re And he’s singing "See the blue sea playing”, He is weeping; and together All your group of hearers In their ill coats of gray…” True 'tis, wise men! Thank you for the counsel! Warm’s the leather jacket, but I’m sorry That the coat displeases it ill becomes me, And your wise advice you're breaking treating With a stubborn slander. Pardon me and tale without me! I will still not hearken, Will not call you to my circle; You arc wise, gool people, I’m a fool and unattended, In my little cabin, I am singing, I am sobbing Like the little children. I am singing: "See the the sea", Hear the wind a-blowing, Black's the steppe ani with its freezes Speaks the tomb forsaken. I am singing; there are ruins, Tombs that rise still higher, Till a path the Zaporozhtsy To the sea will open; Atamans on swift black horses Rob and plunder always Dash to martial glory 'Fore their hosts; the rivers flowing 'Mid the guns of heroes rudy margins Howl and groan in anger grow rising, Till they sing more fiercely! Yes, I hearken and l study, Learning from the elders: What, my fathers, do you tell me? Son, it is not cheerful! For the Dn ye i pr's angry at us, Ukraina's weeping." And I weep. That self-s[]me hour In their shining squadrons Atamans set out a-marching, Captains with their nobles, And the hetmans, gold-attired; To my humble cabin They have come to sit around me, And of Ukraina They will speak and tell me stories, How the Sich was founded, How the Cossacks boldly travarsed Rapids, rafting downwards, How they reveled on the waters, Dashed into Scutari, How they lit their pipes beloved At the Polish fires; Then came back to Ukraina, How they nobly feasted... "Play, kobzar! Pour out, O tapster!" And the Cossacks reveled. Tapsters pour and grow not weary And the feast continues. So he sand Kobzars sang and all the Cossacks At Hortisa's bending, Fill their caps and dream dance their praises dances As the feast continues. Minstrel Pitchers come and pass around them, Dry and empty leave them. "Revel, sir, without a tunic! Revel, wind, a-blowing! Play, kobzar, pour out, 0 tapster, While the humor strikes us!” Standing side by side the stripling Dances with his elders: "Fine, 0 children! Good, O children! You too will be heroes!" Atamans at the high banquet Stand not there with the others; They are walking, are conversing, And the node heroes Stand not quiet but tney enter ‘re dancing With their aged bodies; And I marvel, I am looking, Smiling, while I'm weeping. I marvel, I'm smiling, I'm wiping my eyelids, I’m not all alone, but I live with those men! In my little cabin, and on the steppes also, The Cossacks are sporting, and singing their pride;; the thickets are rustling, In my little cabin, the blue sea is playing, The tomb is rejoicing brings its sorrow , while rustle the trees. The maiden is singing, "Grica", as she wanders, I'm not all alone; may I live with those men! There are all my blessings, money! That is all my glory! And for counsel I will thank you, For the counsel evil! Wake with me, while I am living, On The dead words that tore you, To create lament and weeping; Comrades, rise, to greeted! And convey our sons' bold footsteps On a distant journey. Let them go; they will be finding Some revered old Cossack To inspire in my children Those old tears and weeping. Be with men and I am speaking! I'm the lord of nobles! So I'm sitting at the table, Singing and narrating! Whom to ask? Who is the leader? Outdoors it grows lighter, Fades the moon, the sun is blazing, And the boys are risings They have prayed and all aroused, They now stand around me. Doubting, doubting just as orphans, They have begged for counsel. "Bless as, father, so they beg me, That we may have power. Bless us that we find our future In the coming ages." "You are joking, life's no cabin, You are little children, Foolish too. For who will Lead you With his gallant comrades? Who will lead you? Children, answer, It is hard for me here! I have heard you, l nave hearkened, have marked your questions. Go among good people; all is Written down on paper. Study what you have not studied, You have been so kind to unto me, You nave teen and richly also You have paid as well, Tma and mna I know, and oksya Little can I tell you. What will men remarks? My children, Come and we will ask you. I have now an aged father (Kin I have none living) He will give me pleasure with you, For he in his wisdom, Knows how hard it is to wander As a homeless orphan; And he has a noble spirit, He's a Cossack loyal; He is not ashamed to utter Words his mother taught him, When she nursed him in his cradle, Trained him as a youngster; Do not be ashamed to utter Tales of Ukraina, Which the blind old bards repeated, Singing in the evening. Love those tales, the dumas truthful, Sing the Cossack praises, Love them ever. Come, my children, To the paths of pleasure. Had the years ago ne'er met me, In the worst of seasons, Long ago would I be buried In a foreign country. And the strangers all soall mock me How he So, he died from freezing". Hard it is to fight and conquer, If you know no motive. Times have changed, why dream of visions? Let us go, my children! If he did not let me perish In a foreign country, So he will accept you, children, Just as his own offspring. And for this with pious praying Back to Ukrainal Farewell, father, in the cabinI On your ancient threshold, Give a blessing to my children For their future journey. 7.IV.1841 Petersburg