Love, hope, and quiet glory
Did not warm us for long with their deceit,
Our youthful amusements have vanished,
Like a dream, like morning mist;
But in us still burns the desire,
With a soul impatient under the yoke of fate,
We heed the call of our homeland.
We await with longing and hope
The moment of sacred freedom,
As a young lover awaits
The moment of a faithful meeting.
As long as we burn with freedom,
As long as our hearts are alive for honor,
My friend, let us dedicate
Our beautiful impulses to the motherland!
Comrade, believe: it will rise,
The star of enchanting happiness,
Russia will awaken from its slumber,
And on the ruins of autocracy,
Our names will be written!
By Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin, 1818.
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