Forget not, ne'er forget
The days of youth so bright.
On life's dark path they. cast
A beam of radiant light,
The golden dreams of youth
Of love, of action bold,
Of pure impulse, of such
Be not ashamed, but hold.
They pass, and then in gloom
Thou'lt labor like the mole,
And callouses will come
Both on thy hands and soul.
He only, who can love,
Endure, whose blood can thrill,
Whom hope can always heal,
Whose courage naught can still,
Who grieves o'er man's defeat,
Rejoices when he wins—
He is a man complete.
Throughout thy life, perhaps,
'Twill not lie in thy power
To be such man complete—
Yet be one for an hour!
And then in evil days,
When grief makes thy heart sore,
When thy hopes pass away,
And feeling glows no more,
When from the broad highways
Where tides of life still sweep,
Thy way through bypaths leads,
Deserted, narrow, steep;
When cares compress the heart,
When thorns thy feet shall gall—
Thou wilt then life's springtime
With gratitude recall!
And those bright dreams shall then
A light on thy path bring.
Forget not, ne'er forget
The days of youth, of spring!
Ivan Franko, 1882
