"A little orchard by the dwelling" Taras Shevchenko
A little orchard by the dwelling,
The June bugs hum above its top;
Home strolling girls sing, laugh, and hop;
The ploughmen from the fields are coming,
While mothers wait for them to sup.
The kin are eating by the dwelling;
The evening star peeks o`er a bough;
A daughter serves with knitted brow
While how to serve the mother`s telling,
But nightingale just won`t allow.
Beside the dwelling placed the mother
Her little children in their nest,
And with a dream herself in blest.
All`s still. — The girls and warblers, only,
Seem to forget it`s time of rest.
Translated by Waldimir Semenyna
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