Translation from Sakha language into Russian into English
Vladimir Soloukhin, 1984

My Homeland

Like a man
Is covered with the earth of the grave,
So my homeland
Lies beneath the thick snow.


My fast-flowing river
Is covered with a layer of ice,
It lies under its weight in silence.


My green
And black taiga
Is also covered with a cap of snow.


And in the smoky, cramped yurt
My Yakuts, my kin,
All huddled together, knees bent,
Lying there,
Surrounded by a huge
Cruel cold.


Their minds are weakening,
Their eyes are watering.
They lie
Prisoners of the bitter cold,
Cut off from the world,
From people.


Oh, I wish I could sing a song,
It's about time,
But who will sing?
And if someone does,
The song will sound like a groan,
It won't warm the soul,
It will bring
Just new darkness and new sadness.


I was in another land.
Under the bright, hot sun
It lies adorned with flowers,
Man's movements there
Free,
The flow of the rivers
Free
The aspirations of man there
Free.
Life is bubbling there
Like milk in a pot,
Free
Voices are heard,
Free
Songs are sung
Calling all people
To carefree fluttering and merriment...


But, however,
Living on those happy shores
I couldn't bear it, I couldn't stand it,
I had
Enough,
Like a nail I'm hammered through the cap
Into the frozen,
Angry, icy,
Lying under a thick layer of snow,
Living in captivity to the fierce cold
The sufferer -
My Yakutia.


I was there myself,
But my homeland
Remained in my brain and heart,
In my eyes.


And under the snow
There were hay meadows.


And black
Under the thick layer of snow
There was rich taiga.
And swift
Under the heaviest burden
The silvery river was flowing.


And in the smoky,
Poor,
Chilly,
Miserable yurts
They huddled together, hungry and suffering,
My Yakuts, my kin.


Oh, homeland,
My Yakutia!
Like an enchanted forgotten hero
Shackled with iron chains,
Kneeling, motionless,
Far away,
In a corner of the earth,
At the Arctic edge
You are sleeping, unable to break the spell.
But I believe, I know,
I believe and hope
That you'll wake up,
You'll throw off those chains
And you'll become
Cheerful, bold, and strong,
And that's when
The earth will be free of all the snow,
The river will be free of its thick ice,
The taiga will be free from winter blizzards.


And the people,
Walled in their yurts,
Sitting under the guard of the fierce cold,
All will rise to their feet,
They'll all stand up
And go out to freedom where the earth
Enjoys the warmth of spring and smokes with joy,
Where the sun is shining and driving the clouds away.


I am foretelling it and singing about
Mighty mysterious forces,
Spring floods and thunder.


There are no sickly people.
No hungry people,
No illiterate people,
No downtrodden people,
No forgotten people...


Stop,
Listen,
Hang on words!
Even now, beneath the thick layer of snow
The first streams gurgle and rattle,
Even now, in hungry, smoky yurts
The words of waking people are heard.
These sounds, these signs are clear to me,
Oh, people, who were first to awake,
Oh, you who have risen earlier than others,
Shout, sing louder,
Wake up the others,
Call the days of spring!