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Songs

Meni odnakovo, ‘Indifference’

by Mykola Vitaliyovych Lysenko

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Text & Translation

Meni odnakovo, ‘Indifference’
Ukrainian source: Taras Hryhorovych Shevchenko

Meni odnakovo, chy budu
Ja zhyt v Ukrajini, chy ni.
Chy khto zhadaje, chy zabude
Mene v snihu na chuzhyni
Odnakovisin’ko meni.

V nevoli vyris mizh chuzhymy,
I, ne oplakanyj svojimy,
V nevoli, plachuchy, umru,
I vse z soboju zaberu,
Maloho slidu ne pokynu
Na nashij slavnij Ukrajini,
Na nashik – ne svojij zemli.

I ne pomjane bat’ko z synom,
Ne skazhe synovi: “Molys’.
Molysja, synu: za Vkrajinu
Joho zamuchyly kolys”.

Meni odnakovo, chy bude,
Toj syn molytysja, chy ni…
Ta ne odnakovo meni,
Jak Ukrajinu zliji ljudy
Prysplijat’, lukavi, I v ohni
Pryspljat’, lukavi, I v ohni
Jiji, okradenuju, zbudjat’…
Okh! Okh, ne odnakovo meni.

Indifference
English translation © C.H. Andrusyshen

It is all one to me indeed, if I
Live in Ukraine or live there not at all,
Whether or not men let my memory die;
Here in an alien land, mid snows piled high,
It will not matter that such things befall.

In serfdom, among strangers was I reared,
And unlamented wholly by my own
In exile I shall die, in grief unsheared
And to my nameless grave shall pass alone
No trace of me, alas, will then remain
To see in all our glorious Ukraine,
In all that land of ours that is not ours.

No father will commend me to his son,
That prayers for me to God he might confise:
“Pray then then, my boy! For us his course was run.
For our Ukraine he suffered and he died.”

It is all one to me indeed, I say,
Whether or not that son for me should pray…
But while I live I cannot bear to see
A wicked people come with crafty threat,
To lull Ukraine, yet strip her ruthlessly
And waked her amid the the flames they set
By God, these wrongs are not all one to me!

Meni odnakovo, ‘Indifference’
Ukrainian source: Taras Hryhorovych Shevchenko

Indifference
English source: C.H. Andrusyshen

Meni odnakovo, chy budu
It is all one to me indeed, if I
Ja zhyt v Ukrajini, chy ni.
Live in Ukraine or live there not at all,
Chy khto zhadaje, chy zabude
Whether or not men let my memory die;
Mene v snihu na chuzhyni
Here in an alien land, mid snows piled high,
Odnakovisin’ko meni.
It will not matter that such things befall.

V nevoli vyris mizh chuzhymy,
In serfdom, among strangers was I reared,
I, ne oplakanyj svojimy,
And unlamented wholly by my own
V nevoli, plachuchy, umru,
In exile I shall die, in grief unsheared
I vse z soboju zaberu,
And to my nameless grave shall pass alone
Maloho slidu ne pokynu
No trace of me, alas, will then remain
Na nashij slavnij Ukrajini,
To see in all our glorious Ukraine,
Na nashik – ne svojij zemli.
In all that land of ours that is not ours.

I ne pomjane bat’ko z synom,
No father will commend me to his son,
Ne skazhe synovi: “Molys’.
That prayers for me to God he might confise:
Molysja, synu: za Vkrajinu
“Pray then then, my boy! For us his course was run.
Joho zamuchyly kolys”.
For our Ukraine he suffered and he died.”

Meni odnakovo, chy bude,
It is all one to me indeed, I say,
Toj syn molytysja, chy ni…
Whether or not that son for me should pray…
Ta ne odnakovo meni,
But while I live I cannot bear to see
Jak Ukrajinu zliji ljudy
A wicked people come with crafty threat,
Prysplijat’, lukavi, I v ohni
To lull Ukraine, yet strip her ruthlessly
Pryspljat’, lukavi, I v ohni
And waked her amid the the flames they set
Jiji, okradenuju, zbudjat’…
By God, these wrongs are not all one to me!
Okh! Okh, ne odnakovo meni.

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