Freedom

( Written at the time of the emancipation of the serfs. ) 

O'er thy plains, my native country,

In the years now past away,

Never did I ride with feelings

Such as fill my soul to-day!

In its mother's arms reposing,

Lo! a peasant's child I see,

And my heart is stirred to gladness

By a thought most dear to me.

You were born in times auspicious,

Child, into this world below;

With God's help, in days before you,

Pain and grief you shall not know.

With the light of youth around you,

Ere you enter on the strife,

Freely and with none to hinder

You shall choose your path in life.

You shall, if you so desire it,

Be a peasant evermore;

If you have the power within you,

Like an eagle you shall soar.

But, it may be, many errors

Lurk in fancies such as these,

For man's intellect is subtle,

Swayed and influenced with ease.

And, beside the snares of old time

Spread the peasants' feet before,

Well I know designing people

Have invented many more.

Yes, but for the folk to break them

It no harder task will be.

Then, O Muse, with hope and gladness

Hail the dawn of liberty!

N. A. Nekrasov

translated by Alice Stone Blackwell


(Picture: Secret revolt, Wojciech Siudmak)