Lyrics Тарас Григорович Шевченко - Лічу в неволі дні і ночі

I consider days and nights in captivity
And I forget the number.
Oh my God, it's kind of hard
Those days are over.
And summers float between them,
They float to themselves verses, Take away behind themselves
Both good and evil!
Take away, do not return
Never anything!
And do not beg, because it will disappear
Prayer for God.

And the fourth year passes
Quietly, slowly,
And I start the fourth
A book in captivity
To network, - to network
Blood and tears
My grief in a foreign land,
Because grief in words
Will not tell anyone
Never, never,
Nowhere in the world! There are no words
In distant captivity!
No words, no tears,
There is nothing.
Not even around you
Great God!
There is nothing to look at,
Who to talk to.
I don't want to live in the world,
And you have to live alone.
I must, I must, and for what?
Not to lose his soul?
She's not worth it.
That's what I have to do
Live in the world, drag
Shackles in captivity!
Maybe I'll see
To my Ukraine ...
Maybe I'll share more
In words, tears
With green oaks!
With dark meadows!
Because I don't have a family
Throughout Ukraine,
But still not those people
What in this foreign land!
I would walk over the Dnieper
In merry villages
And he would sing his thoughts,
Quiet, unhappy.
Give to live, look,
Oh my dear God!
On the deer of those greens
And those graves! And if you don't give, then bring
To my country
My tears; for I, God!
I'm dying for her!
Maybe I'm abroad
It will be easier to lie down,
As sometimes in Ukraine
They will remember!
Bring it, my dear God!
Or at least hope
Go to the soul ... because nothing,
I can't do anything
Poor head,
Because the heart is cold,
How do I think maybe
Bury me
Abroad - and these thoughts
They will hide with me! ..
And me in Ukraine
Nobody will remember!

Or maybe quietly over the years
My lace tears
And will arrive someday
On Ukraine ... and will fall,
Like dew above the ground,
Sincerely, he is getting younger
Tears will fall quietly!
And shakes his head,
And he will weep with me,
And maybe, Lord, me
He will remember in his prayer!

As it will be, so it will be.
Either swim or elm.
You'll have to crucify yourself though!
And I will still network
Quietly white letters.