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O Mighty! My Mighty! // October 7, 2024
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Oh Mighty! my Mighty! Now let me ask you this:
When we were slaugheter’d once again, where was Your iron fist?
And when Your Land was thick as march with our clotting blood,
Where were Your chariots of fire, O ever-judging Lud?
O heart! heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where in their homes our Brethren lie,
Fallen cold and dead.
Oh Mighty! my Mighty! stand up and hear the bells;
Stand up – for them the flag is hung – for You our cry shrills:
For You our mournful request – for You Your kin’s a-raging,
For You they call, the swaying mass: “What have You been us pledging?
O Mighty! Traitor Father!
Come count us head by head!
Is it some dream that in their homes
They’ve fallen cold and dead?"
And what is it You answer, Your voice so weak and quite?
“I’ve saved everyone I could, did everything One might;
And once again here lies My Land, all soak’d in My kin’s blood,
And once again right here I stand, your ever-weeping God.
O heart! heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
All I can do is toil for those
Who weren’t killed yet…”
BY На словах
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