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C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Russian Song

By Aleksey Khomyakov (1804–1860)

Translation of Nathan Haskell Dole

HAIL, lovely land of Saint Vladimir!

Thy strength is vast, thy cities mighty;

Thou hast a host of faithful people!

On azure mountains firm thou leanest;

In azure seas thy feet thou bathest.

Thou dost not fear the cruel foe,

But thou dost fear the wrath of God!

Hail, lovely land of Saint Vladimir!

My fathers’ fathers gave thee service.

They won thee peace by fruitful reason,

Thy holy cities they embellisht,

Thy cruel foes they helpt to vanquish.

Recall the good deeds of my fathers.

They served thee with a faithful service,

And I with faithful heart have served thee.

On the steppes from my loins have peasants descended,

Have peasants descended, well-to-do little peasants;

Their place do they know, they know what is useful,

Their brethren they love, and God do they worship.

From me, in the courts, has justice been done

Has justice been done, unbought and impartial.

From me has gone forth to the whole world a rumor

That bluer skies are not to be seen,

That bluer seas are not to be plowed,

That beautiful is the land of Vladimir.

Admire her—thou wilt never sufficiently gaze;

Draw wisdom from her, thou ne’er wilt exhaust her.

Across the heavens the bright sun goes;

All the earth it warms, it lightens.

By night the crowded stars are shining,

And there is no counting the sand or the grass-blades,

And over the earth proceed the words of God—

It warms with life, with joy it shineth;

Bright gleam the churches’ golden cupolas,

And the servants of the Lord and the pilgrims

Are countless like the grass-blades on the steppes,

Are countless like the sands upon the sea-shore.