www.ukrweekly.com СВОБОДА SVOBODA Український Щоденник Ukrainian Daily РІК 12. Ч. 44. No. 44. ' §І| 1 ffls¿ SECTION II. Dedicated to the needs and interest of young Americans of Ukrainian descent· No. 10 JERSEY CITY, CITY, N. J., SATORDAY, MARCH - 6, 1Ш VOL. XI THE GREATEST MOTHER Know Him Somewhere, on some distant battle· I Somewhere, today, an American field, an American soldier will be j serviceman needs help. He may be RECENTLY we conducted a private poll of our own among some of our wounded in action today. He may¡ at distant domestic camp or base, on young Ukrainian Americans as to their opinion of Taras Shevchenko, be your son. Or the laughing, tow- a ship at sea, in an unfriendly prison the great Ukrainian poet and patriot whose anniversary is observed an­ headed kid that only yesterday lived camp. He may be almost anywhere. nually at about this time. In the course of it we discovered, somewhat to in a house down the street. Remem­ Wherever he is, there also is the our surprise, that although all of them spoke in highly laudatory terms ber? American Red Cross, offering him its about Shevchenko, yet quite a number of them know very little about him. Strong but tender hands will car­ many resources. Whether his prob­ Of course, his name and picture are very familiar to them, for in their ry him back to an Army dressing lem is personal, physical, mental or homes and communal life they encounter both at every turn. They have station. A blood transfusion may be financial, the Red Cross stands ready also heard, sang, read, and even recited a few of his poetic works. And required to save his life—blood con­ to assist him and his family. Even perhaps the chief events of his life are vaguely known to them. But that tributed to the American Red Cross the barbed wire enclosures of prison appears, to be the sum-total of their knowledge of him. by thousands of Americans back camps are no barrier to Red Cross. Such young people deserve to be strongly criticized. There would be home. Through its affiliation with the In­ some excuse for them if they lacked source material about this great man. He will be brought to a base hos­ ternational Red "Cross Committee, it But such is not the case. For those who can read Ukrainian, there is pital where Army nurses, recruited breaches all hatreds to bring food, easily available a wealth of material on the subject. And for those who by the American Red Cross, will dress articles of comfort, and to re-estab­ cannot, there has always been The Ukrainian Weekly, plus several brochures his wounds. Sympathetic Red Cross lish the line of communication be­ and booklets. It appears, however, that either through sheer mental lazi­ workers will advise his family of his tween the military prisoner and his ness or some other reason, these young people have hardly tapped any of progress, and, as he convalesces, loved ones at home. these sources. Evidently they have preferred to rest blissfully content in other Red Cross workers will help At the disposal of every Ameri­ the knowledge that Shevchenko was a great man, and let it go at that. speed his recovery. |can serviceman are Red Cross field Such an easy-going attitude does justice neither to Shevchenko nor # # # ! directors in the war front, home serv· to them. The qualities that constitute a man's greatness are usually of Somewhere tonight an American j ice workers in the local chapteds and little consequence if they do not affect others, if they do not inspire a boy is longing for home. He may be millions of volunteers, desire to emulate or be guided by them. Of what use Shevchenko's noble in bomb-scarred London—in far-off j Thus, the Red Cross serves the teachings, his great courage, and his lofty patriotism, if they do not Australia, in a Pacific island jungle, serviceman! kindle one's heart and mind. Why wax rhapsodical over the beauty of or on a North African desert. « * ** his poetry, when actually you have read very little, if any, of it. And But his heart and his mind will be Somewhere, sometime, disaster will why arrange elaborate programs on the anniversary of his birth or death, back in States, at the home fireside. strike some community. It may be when throughout the rest of the year you will hardly ever give him a He will long-to pat the head of your town, ravaged by storm and thought, much less open his "Kobzar" collection, or even obtain one. that frisky pup; to laugh again with flood—or enemy action. In a word, let's not insult Shevchenko's memory with any such sham the girl who awaits his return; to When that disaster strikes, the and hypocrisy. He is too great a man for that. Either give him his just live the life of a civilized man. ¡Red Cross -your Red Cross—the one dues, by really getting to know him, his works, and his significance to the If he can, he will go to the Ameri­ to which you always have contributed Ukrainian people, or leave him alone entirely. There are enough others can Red Cross club. It won't be the ¡—will be on the job. It will feed and who will pay proper respect to him. And even if there were not, he will home for which h% longs. It will be |shelter the suffering. If necessary, it continue to spiritually dominate the course of Ukrainian life. For, in the only a substitute — an antidote for j will help to rebuild their town, their words of an American scholar, Taras Shevchenko is the outstanding in­ loneliness. But there he will find a | homes. carnation of the national genius of the Ukrainian people; he sums up alt warm welcome, an American style The Red Cross will be there be­ their past and stands out like a guide to their future. meal, a comfortable bed. He may ¡cause it is part of the community, sit down to write a letter to the folks Let us, therefore, on this occasion of the 129th anniversary of his ¦made up of people representative of back home. He will find entertain­ birth, resolve to learn a bit more than we now know about Shevchenko. ¡the community. When the period of ment to relieve his mind of the Let us also resolve to read, carefully, at least a few of the works that |emergency ends, it will still be there thoughts that pass through the minds have made him one of the masters of world poetry. —on the job. of homesick men. If we do, we will find our senses opened to hidden beauty of a won­ ¾ # ·» He may be at some distant out­ drous quality. Likewise we will find ourselves inspired to greater efforts to post, far removed from that Red | Somewhere, every minute of the help our country win this war against autocracy, oppression and servitude, Cross club. But tonight, or the next hour, every hour of the day, every against which Shevchenko waged almost single-handed such a highly cour­ night, the Red Cross will come to day of the yar, the ^ Red Cross is ageous and inspiring fight—a fight which is being continued today and him, bringing with it relief from the 'helping someone. which eventually is bound to bring about national freedom for the people boredom and horror of war. ' Won't you help, too? he loved and suffered for so much. It seemed as if the sun shone forth, Selections From Taras Shevchenko's "Koh^|^^S¿.'^u'SJ: 'As if the world and all there was, The fields and woods, were mine to _— j jje reap tnee <j¢>wn. keep... THE TESTAMENT Water your new liberty Serf and landlord And we, with merriment, went forth With blood for rain. Great and small; To water someone else's sheep. Dig my grave raise my barrow Then, in the mighty family Friendless wandering singer,—all, (Trans, by W. Semenyna) By the Dnieper-side |Of all men that are free. All shall swell the sheaves that grow In Ukraina, my land. ¦ Maybe sometimes, very softly to mountains; UKRAINE AFLAME A fair land and wide. You will speak of me? Even the Tsar shall go. The people die — I will lie and" watch the cornfields. (Trans, by E. L. Voynich) Within their prisons they are slaught­ And me too the scythe shall find Listen through the years ered; Cowering alone behind To the river voices roaring, Children without a God or friend THE REAPER Bars of iron; swift and blind, Roaring in my ears. The Kozak children—and the daugh­ Strike, and pass, and leave me, stark Through the fields the reaper goes ters, When I hear the call And forgotten in the dark. Piling sheaves on sheavens in row; The beauty of the native land, Of the racing flood, Hills, not sheaves, are these. (Trans, by E. L. Voynich) Are held in bondage... Loud with hated blood Where he passes howls the earth, * * * I will leave them all. Howl the echoeing seas. Fields and hills; and force my way AT THE ROADSIDE Ukraine is flaming to sky: Right up to the Throne All the night the reaper reaps, Through villages the naked children І. At the roadside Where God sits alone; Never stays his hand nor sleeps Weep for their fathers. I Not far from where I stood Clasp His feet and pray.