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4 WWW. UNWLA.ORG “НАШЕ ЖИТТЯ”, БЕРЕЗЕНЬ 2012 Shevchenko’ s Last Poem Shevchenko’ s poetry, written upon his return from exile in 1957, is conte m- plative and complex, filled with biblical imagery and references to classi c- al mythology. In this period, Shevchenko frequently turned to the Scri p- tures, producing his own renditions of biblical texts i n which he lamented Ukraine’ s oppressed state and pro phesied its future liberation: “ Hosea, Chapter 14, Imita tion ” (1859), “ Isaiah, Chapter 35 ” (1859), “ Imitation of Psalm 11 ” (1859) and others. In his last poem, written shortly before his death, Shevchenko addresses his Muse as he contemplates stepping out of this life “ i nto the other world, ” the mystery of which is conveyed through allusions to mythological rivers Lethe, Styx, and Phlegethon and mythic characters Aesculapeus, Charon, and “ the spinning Fate. ” Should we not then cease, my friend, My poor dear neighbour , make an end Of versifying useless rhymes? Prepare our wagons for the time When we that longest road must wend? Into the other world, my friend, To God, we’ll hasten to our rest... We have grown weary, utter - tired, A little wisdom we’ve acquired, It should suffice! To sleep is best, Let us now go home to rest ... A home of gladness, you may know! No, let us not depart, nor go — It is early still, We shall yet take walks together, Sit, and gaze our fill, Gaze upon the world, my fortune, See how wide it spreads, Wide and joyful, it is both Bright, and of great depth! We shall yet take walks my star, On a hill climb high, And take our rest together..... And Your sister - stars, meanwhile, The ageless ones, will start to shine, Through the heavens glide... Let u s linger then, my sister, Thou, my holy bride, And with lips unsullied we shall Make our prayer to God, And then set out quietly On that longest road, Over Lethe’s plumbless depths, Waters dark and swarthy, Grant me then thy blessing, friend, With thy holy glory. While this and that and all such wear on, Straight let us go, as the crow flies, To Aesculapeus for advice, If he can outwit old Charon And spinning Fate... An then, as long as The old sage would change his purpose, We would create, reclining there , An epic, soaring everywhere Above the earth, hexameters We’d twine, and up the attic stairs Take them for mice to gnaw. Then we Would sing prose, yet with harmony And not haphazard. Holy friend, Companion to my journey’s end, Before the fire has ceased to glow, Let us to Charon, rather, go! Over Lethe’s plumbless depths, Waters dark and swarthy, Let us sail, let us bear With us holy glory, Ageless, young for evermore... Or — friend, let it be! I will do without the glory, If they grant it me, There on the banks of Phlegethon, Or beside the Styx, in heaven, As if by the broad Dnipro, there In a grove, a grove primaeval, A little house I’ll build, and make An orchard all around it growing, And you’ll fly to me in the shades, There, like a beauty, I’ll enthron e you; Dnipro and Ukraina we Shall recollect, gay villages In woodlands, gravehills in the steppes, And we shall sing right merrily. February 14 - 15, 1861 St. Petersburg Translated by Vera Rich , London, England 1961 Видання C оюзу Українок A мерики - перевидано в електронному форматі в 2012 році . A рхів C У A - Ню Йорк , Н . Й . C Ш A.
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