The Haidamaks

POSTED IN classic poetry March 7, 2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Haidamaks

Everything moves, everything passes, and there is no end.

Where did it all disappear? From where did it all come?

Both the fool and the wise man know nothing.

One lives, one dies, one thing blooms,

But another has withered, withered away forever

And winds have carried off yellowed leaves,

And the sun will rise, as it used to rise,

And crimson stars will float off as they used to,

They will float afterwards, and you, white-faced one,

Will saunter along the blue sky.

 

 

 

 

Taras Shevchenko