Ukrainian soil,
lit by the endlessly distant
light of freedom's torch.
Once againe I felt
that behind each bush
of your blessed coast-tails
there is always a new fate awaiting,
to melt the dreams
into the liveliest colors of life;
Ukrainian soil,
you beautiful, green, virginal wreath,
you beautiful, golden, virginal wreath,
with how much bliss you pour
the inebriating nectar of life.
When black destiny
immerses the hero's coffin
into your viscid black soil again,
tomorrow, tens of thousands,
hundreds of thousands of leaves
freedom shall bloom.
Nailed into eternity with the nails of destiny
a special leaf quietly trembles and hovers,
my freedom.
Glory to Ukraine - Slava Ukraini!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem