THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.
Three little kittens lost their mittens;
And they began to cry,
O mother dear,
We very much fear
That we have lost our mittens.
Lost your mittens!
You naughty kittens
Then you shall have no pie
Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.
No, you shall have no pie
Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.
The three little kittens found their mittens,
And they began to cry,
O mother dear,
See here, see here;
See, we have found our mittens.
Put on your mittens,
You silly kittens,
And you may have some pie
Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r,
O, let us have the pie,
Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r.
The three little kittens put on their mittens,
And soon ate up the pie;
O mother dear,
We greatly fear
That we have soil'd our mittens.
Soiled your mittens!
You naughty kittens!
Then they began to sigh,
Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.
Then they began to sigh,
Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.
The three little kittens washed their mittens,
And hung them out to dry;
O mother dear,
Do not you hear,
That we have washed our mittens?
Washed your mittens!
O, you're good kittens.
But I smell a rat close by:
Hush! hush! mee-ow, mee-ow.
We smell a rat close by,
Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow,
By Jane Taylor
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Then the traveler in the dark
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
How could he see where to go,
If you did not twinkle so?
In the dark blue sky you keep,
Often through my curtains peep
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.
As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveler in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.
‘I am busy’ said the sea.
‘I am busy’ Think of me
making continents to be.
‘I am busy” said the sea
‘I am busy’ said the rain.
‘When I fall it’s not in vain;
Wait and you will see the grain.
I am busy.’ Said the rain.
‘I am busy” said the air,
‘Blowing here and blowing there,
Up and down and everywhere.
I am busy,' said the air.
‘I am busy,’ said the sun.
‘All my planets, every one,
Know my work is never done.
I am busy, said the sun.
Sea and rain and air and sun,
Here’s a fellow toiler – one,
Whose task will soon be done.
Taras Shevchenko, The Mighty Dnieper Тарас Шевченко, "Причина"
The mighty Dnieper roars and bellows,
The wind in anger howls and raves,
Down to the ground it bends the willows,
And mountain-high lifts up the waves.
The pale-faced moon picked out this moment
To peek out from behind a cloud,
Like a canoe upon the ocean
It first tips up, and then dips down.
The cocks don't crow to wake the morning,
There's not as yet a sound of man,
The owls in glades call out their warnings,
And ash trees creak and creak again.
Translated by John Weir,
Toronto
Lesya Ukrainka, Contra spem spero Леся Українка "Contra spem spero"
Thoughts away, you heavy clouds of autumn!
For now springtime comes, agleam with gold!
Shall thus in grief and wailing for ill-fortune
All the tale of my young years be told?
No, I want to smile through tears and weeping.,
Sing my songs where evil holds its sway,
Hopeless, a steadfast hope forever keeping,
I want to live! You thoughts of grief, away!
On poor sad fallow land unused to tilling
I'll sow blossoms, brilliant in hue,
I'll sow blossoms where the frost lies, chilling,
I'll pour bitter tears on them as due.
And those burning tears shall melt, dissolving
All that mighty crust of ice away.
Maybe blossoms will come up, unfolding
Singing springtime too for me, some day.
Up the flinty steep and craggy mountain
A weighty ponderous boulder I shall raise,
And bearing this dread burden, a resounding
Song I'll sing, a song of joyous praise.
In the long dark ever-viewless night-time
Not one instant shall I close my eyes,
I'll seek ever for the star to guide me,
She that reigns bright mistress of dark skies.
Yes, I'll smile, indeed, through tears and weeping
Sing my songs where evil holds its sway,
Hopeless, a steadfast hope forever keeping,
I shall live! You thoughts of grief, away!
Translated by John Weir,
Toronto
But also true winged soil is not necessary.
Earth is not, it will be heaven.
No field, it will be done.
No steam, it will cloud.
This is probably true bird ...
But what about the man? And what about the man?
He lives on the ground. I do not fly.
A wing has. A wing has!
They are the wings, not down, now, "I
And of truth, virtue and trust "me. Ліна Костенко (1930)
Who - with fidelity in love.
Who - with eternal aspirations.
Who - with sincerity to work.
Who - with generosity to care.
Who - the song, or hope,
Or with poetry, or dreams.
Man allegedly does not fly ...
A wing has. A wing has!
Translated by John Weir,
Toronto