The sun sets, darken the mountain crests, The birds quieten, the fields grow still, And people rejoice that now they’ll rest. But I sit and ponder…my heart flies again To a shadowed orchard in Ukraine. With thoughts I fly, I fly, My heart, it seems, so tranquil grows, The heart grows black, the hill, the groves, And in that blue sky a star apperas. Oh star! Oh star! —down stream my tears. Have you arisen over Ukraine yet? Are brown eyes there seeking for you In that blue sky? Or do they forget? If they have fotgotten, wake them not, So they be not aware of my poor lot. |
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