"Stonecutters" by Ivan Franko

I had a dream. Like there is ahead
An endless, empty and the wildest plane,
And I stand there, held by iron chain,
Under the tall rock made from finest stone,
And next to me are thousands just like me.

The face of each is marked by life and sorrow,
Love's favour burn in each and every eye,
And hands of everyone are chained with snakes of iron,
And every shoulder's bent low to the ground,
Because an awful burden crushes all us down.

And everyone holds heavy iron hammer,
And loud voice from top like thunder booms:
"Thou split this rock! Don't let no cold, nor heat
To stop you! Endure the drudgery, and thirst, and hunger,
Because you are to break this rock apart!"

And all, like one, we lifted our hands,
And thousands hammers boomed against the rock,
And stones flew in a thousands of directions;
We stroke the cliff with force of desperation
Time after time we hit that stony brow.

Like growl of waterfall, like roar of bloody battle,
Again our hammers clattered and again;
And inch by inch we conquered bigger space,
Though lots of us were crippled by those crags,
We struggled on and nothing there could stop us.

And every knew that we will get no glory,
Folk won't remember us for our bloody work,
That only then will people walk this road,
When we cut through and level it all over,
And our bones done rotting underneath.

We didn't want the glory for the doing,
We are no heroes looking for a fame.
No, we are servants, though at free will's guidance
We took these bonds. Became the slaves of choice,
At future's way we are just stonecutters.

We all believed that with our own hands
We'll break the rock, we'll shatter the granite.
From our broken bones and our blood
We'll lay a firm foundation, and right after
New life, new hope will come into this world.

And we all knew, that far in world of ours,
Which we abandoned for the labour, sweat and bonds,
Hot tears are cried by wives, and kids, and mothers,
That wrathful and irate, our enemies and rivals,
Curse us, and our purpose, and the cause.

We knew that, and our souls ached,
Hearts tore apart, and chests were pinched by sorrow,
But neither tears, nor grief, nor body's burning pain,
Not even curses stalled us from the work,
And never someone let his hammer out.

So there we go, united all as one
By sacred dream, with hammers in the hands.
Let us be cursed and totally forsaken!
We break this rock, we level path for truth,
And happiness for all will come by our bones.