WAR
by Pavlo Tychyna, 1918

I lay down to sleep.
Three angels stand at my head.
The first angel -- sees all.
The second angel -- hears all.
The third angel -- knows all.

My dream -- my son.

He seems to face the enemy alone.
They surround him, strike at his chest!
(The first angel covers his own eyes).

The field is flat, flat and green.
The wind carries a tune: "Farewell, mother dear."
(The second angel approaches me with a cross).

The wind cries: "Don't grieve, if he falls for his land,
He will not die."
(The third angel comforts my heart).

My dream -- my son.

II On the right -- the sun.
On the left -- the moon.
Ahead -- the stars.

I give you my blessing, son, strike back at the enemy.
And he replies: "Mother dear!
There is no enemy
And there never was one.
The only enemy
Exists in our own hearts.
Give me your blessing, mother, I seek a root
An herb to cure the insanity of men."
I raise my hands to the cross
But there's nothing there.
Silence, except the crow - caw! caw!

On the right -- the sun.
On the left -- the moon.
Ahead -- the stars.

ty-war.doc 5/17/95