Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin - Ode to Liberty lyrics

Listless Cytherean princess, sing No more. Begone out of my view! But you, great scourge of tsar and king, Proud Muse of Freedom, where are you? Come rip my laurels off. Bring stones And crush this coddled lyre. Let me Sing to the world of Liberty And shame that scum upon the thrones. Reveal to me the noble path Where that exalted Gaul once strode, When you in storied Days of Wrath Inspired in him a dauntless Ode. Now, flighty Fortune's favored knaves, Tremble, O Tyrants of the Earth! But ye: take heed now, know your worth And rise as men, ye fallen slaves! I cannot cast my gaze but see A body flayed, an ankle chained, The useless tears of Slavery, The Law perverted and profaned. Yea, everywhere iniquitous Power in the fog of superstition Ascends: Vainglory's fateful pa**ion, And Slavery's gruesome genius. Heavy on every sovereign head There lies a People's misery, Save where the mighty Law is wed Firmly with holy Liberty, Where their hard shield is spread for all, Where in a Nation's faithful hand Among mere equals in the land The sword can equitably fall To smite transgression from on high With one blow, righteously severe In fingers uncorrupted by Ravenous avarice or fear. O Monarchs, ye are crowned by will And law of Man, not Nature's hand. Though ye above the people stand, Eternal Law stands higher still. But woe betide the commonweal Where it is blithely slumbering, Where Law itself is forced to kneel Before the Ma**es, or the King. Here is the Man: witness he bears To his forebears' infamous error And in the storm of recent Terror Laid down royal neck for theirs. King Louis to his d**h ascends In sight of hushed posterity, His crownless, beaten head he bends: Blood for the block of perfidy. The Law stands mute, the People too. And down the criminal axe-blade flies And lo! A ghastly purple lies Upon a Gaul enslaved anew. You autocratic psychopath, You and your throne do I despise! I watch your doom, your children's d**h With hateful, jubilating eyes. Upon your forehead they descry The People's mark of true damnation. Stain of the world, shame of creation, Reproach on earth to God on high! When on the dark Neva the star Of midnight makes the water gleam, When carefree eyelids near and far Are overwhelmed with peaceful dream, The poet, roused with intellect, Sees the lone tyrant's statue loom Grimly asleep amid the gloom, The palace now a derelict, And Clio's awesome call he hears Behind those awesome walls of power. Vivid before his sight appears The foul Caligula's last hour. In stars and ribbons he espies Assa**ins drunk with wine and spite Approaching, furtive in the night With wolfish hearts and brazen eyes. And silent stands the faithless guard, The drawbridge downed without alarm, The gate in dark of night unbarred By treason's mercenary arm. O shame! O terror of our time! Those Janissary beasts burst in And slash, the Criminal Sovereign Is slaughtered by unholy crime. Henceforward, Monarchs, learn ye well: No punishment, no accolade, No altar and no dungeon cell Can be your steadfast barricade. The first bowed head must be your own Beneath Law's trusty canopy Then Peoples' life and liberty Forevermore shall guard your throne.