Voice of Ukraine

From: Ira Kapitonova in Kyiv (Day 745):

‭‭The Lord is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
He fulfills the desire of those who fear him;
he also hears their cry and saves them.
The Lord preserves all who love him,
but all the wicked he will destroy.
Psalm 145:18-20

Today marks 210 years since the birth of Taras Shevchenko, one of the best-known Ukrainian poets. He is often presented as a prophet of the Ukrainian nation because he spoke against Russia’s imperialism and social injustices, which makes his words very relevant today.

His words have been translated into many languages, and you may have heard them. The poem I decided to share today says it’s better to live through trials and give your life fighting than “hibernate” in comfort and leave no trace in this world.
I guess these words stood out to me today after all the recent talks (and Pope’s most recent interview) that Ukraine should give up and give in. Of course, these suggestions are wrapped into a semblance of care and empathy yet have nothing to do with the true nature of either. Indeed, if this war helps us (all people, not just Ukrainians) be alert and alive, let it be so, for it is far more dangerous to become lukewarm and indifferent.

Below is the poem by Taras Shevchenko, translated by John Weir.

THE DAYS GO BY (“Минають дні, минають ночі”)

The days go by, the nights go by,
The summer’s passing; yellow leaves
Are rustling; light deserts the eye,
Thoughts fade away and feeling sleep –
All falls asleep. And I don’t know
If I’m alive or but so-so,
Just floundering about the earth,
For I know neither rue nor mirth…

Where art thou, Fate? Where art thou, Fate?
No fate have I at all!
If You begrudge good fortune, Lord,
Let evil fate befall!
Don’t let me walk around asleep,
A dead heart in my breast,
And roll about, a rotten log,
A hindrance to the rest.
Oh, let me live, live with my heart
And love the human race,
But if not that … then let me curse
And set the world ablaze!
It’s terrible to lie in chains,
To rot in dungeon deep,
But it’s still worse, when you are free
To sleep and sleep and sleep –
And then forever close your eyes
And leave not even a trace,
So that the fact you lived or died
No whit of difference makes!
Where art thou, Fate? Where art thou, Fate?
No fate have I at all!
If You begrudge good fortune, Lord,
Let evil fate befall!