(“Sontse zakhodyt, hory chorniiut” / “Сонце заходить, гори чорніють”)
The sun sets, and dark the mountains become,
The little bird hushes, the plain has grown dumb,
The people rejoice that slumber is nearing,
And I look : and I fly with my heart in my dreaming
To a dark orchard in far Ukraina;
I fly there, I fly there, pondering deeply,
And it seems that my heart is at rest, has grown tranquil.
Dark shadows spread over plain, mountain and grove,
A star twinkles out in the blue, high above:
Star, O Star! —and the bitter tears rain —
And hast thou, then, risen too, over Ukraine?
Do the dark eyes search for thee yet
In the blue heavens? Or did they forget?
May they slumber forever if they have forgotten,
Never to hear of my pitiful fortune.