Mykola Kostomarov - Stars
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I climb the barrow in the night,
The graves are dark and great;
I raise my eyes and see the stars
Stand bright in heaven’s estate.
In measured movement, filled with life
And an eternal grace,
They flow unceasing in the height,
Unnumbered in their place.
An ordered choir, the stars march on
Down skyways infinite;
But we, the children of the dust,
Exult not at the sight!
For servitude, our destiny,
Has ushered us to birth,
Teased us with freedom for a time
But tethered us to earth.
The stars shine now; they shone of old
And they will shine for aye;
But we, when we have gazed our fill,
Will moulder in the clay.
