IN THE VALLEY
A. Merzliakov
From "A Russian Song Book"

Out in the valley on the plain, upon the level plain,
There grows an oak, a mighty oak, of a majestic mien;
There grows an oak, a mighty oak, of a majestic mien.

A mighty oak, a spreading oak, a beauty to regard,
Alone, alone, how pitiful! A sentry standing guard.
Alone, alone, how pitiful! A sentry standing guard.

No curly pine trees grow nearby. No willow waves its head.
No leaf of green, no blade of grass; all life around has fled.
No leaf of green, no blade of grass; all life around has fled.

How sad it is to live alone! How sad e'en for a tree!
How bitter, bitter for a man without his love to be!
How bitter, bitter for a man without his love to be!

Much silver have I, and much gold upon whom to bestow?
There is much fame and honor rare; with whom, then, shall I go?
There is much fame and honor rare; with whom, then, shall I go?

Where, then, to rest my weary heart when storms around me sweep?
My dearest one can't help me now. she in the ground does sleep.
My dearest one can't help me now. She in the ground does sleep.

No kin have I, nor fam'ly all in this foreign land,
Nor have I a dear sweetheart to take me by the hand;
Nor have I a dear sweetheart to take me by the hand.

Nor shall they ever weep for joy, the old folks, tenderly,
No little ones around us play. All that was not to be.
No little ones around us play. All that was not to be.

Take back, take back, then, all your gold, your honors too, likewise,
And give me back my home, my love, one glance from my love's eyes;
And give me back my home, my love, one glance from my love's eyes.