Dig my grave and raise my barrow By the Dnieper-side In Ukraina, my own land, A fair land and wide. I will lie and watch the cornfields, Listen through the years To the river voices roaring, Roaring in my ears.
When I hear the call Of the racing flood, Loud with hated blood, I will leave them all, Fields and hills; and force my way Right up to the Throne Where God sits alone; Clasp His feet and pray… But till that day What is God to me?
Bury me, be done with me, Rise and break your chain, Water your new liberty With blood for rain. Then, in the mighty family Of all men that are free, May be sometimes, very softly You will speak of me?
Taras Shevchenko Translated by E. L. Voynich London, 1911
When I am dead, bury me In my beloved Ukraine, My tomb upon a grave mound high Amid the spreading plain, So that the fields, the boundless steppes, The Dnieper’s plunging shore My eyes could see, my ears could hear The mighty river roar.
When from Ukraine the Dnieper bears Into the deep blue sea The blood of foes … then will I leave These hills and fertile fields — I’ll leave them all and fly away To the abode of God, And then I’ll pray …. But till that day I nothing know of God.
Oh bury me, then rise ye up And break your heavy chains And water with the tyrants’ blood The freedom you have gained. And in the great new family, The family of the free, With softly spoken, kindly word Remember also me.
Taras Shevchenko Pereyaslav, December 25, 1845 Translated by John Weir Toronto, 1961
Як умру, то поховайте Мене на могилі Серед степу широкого На Вкраїні милій, Щоб лани широкополі, І Дніпро, і кручі Було видно, було чути, Як реве ревучий.
Як понесе з України У синєє море Кров ворожу… отойді я І лани і гори — Все покину, і полину До самого Бога Молитися… а до того Я не знаю Бога.
Поховайте та вставайте, Кайдани порвіте І вражою злою кров’ю Волю окропіте. І мене в сем’ї великій, В сем’ї вольній, новій, Не забудьте пом’янути Незлим тихим словом.