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VATRA '97 announcement (in English)

VATRA '97 Повiдомлiня (по українськi)

VATRA '97 zawiadomienie (po polsku)

Я родився твоїм сином
-доля моя бiдна,
i любю тя Лемковино
моя мати рiдна!

I хоц земля наша бiдна,
доля незавидна
- не забудут мої очи тих гiрских ночи:
Ани серце не забуде, пока жити буде.

Бо ци-м годен позабити нашу гiрску красу,
i смеречки i поляни де ся уцi пасут.
I чарницi i яфiри, ягоди, малини?..
Верабоже не забуду нигда Лемковини.

( I. Русенко )

Розметаних на штири сторони сьвiта Лемкiв не мало бити. З великой туги за ридним зродила ся думка органiзувати ЛЕМКIВСЬКУ ВАТРУ. Од Чорной през Іанчову, Бортне глядала она свого мiсьця, жеби го найти в Ждинi. Од невеликой групи люди - перша - аж по тисячи - тепер - скликує што рiк на ридну землю пару поколiнь Лемкiв, яким найцiннiша i незаступлена єсть iх вiтчизна.

Scattered to four corners of the world, Lemkos were not supposed to exist. After strong yearning for your own, an idea was born to organize the Lemko VATRA.
From Chorne, through Hanchova, and Bortne a place for it was sought, to finally settle on the choice of Zhdinya. From a small group during the first event, to thousands nowadays - it calls annually several generations of Lemkos to their native soil, to whom there is no substitute to their motherland.

Ту мене мати породила, солодким молоком кормила. Ту хочу жити, умерати, де жили мiй отець i мати.

Here my mother delivered me, and fed me with her sweet milk. Where my mother and father lived, I wish to live and to die.

Витайте дома! Зас на своiм! Де наша земля, де наша доля, де є наш ридний край. По _бурях_, яки пригнали нас до землi зас простуємо хирбет i позераме в гору, в пришлiст. Земличко, земленько моя, Лемкiвщино, не помни iм же тя здоптали, запустили, же роздиганяли Твої дiточки. Не помни iм. Не помни i мi - жем дав Тя вкрасти, жем Тя не слухав, i замовк, i запер ся Тебе. Не помни мi жем недоли пiддав ся, Не помни мi, не помни мi.

Лемковино!
Пригорни мя до Себе!

Welcome home! Again on your own! Where our soil, our fate, where is our native land. After "storms", which have bent us down to ground, we are straightening our backs, and are looking up, to the future. Soil, my dear soil, Lemkivshchyna, don't remind them that they trampled upon you, let you overgrow, and scattered Your children. Don't remind them. But also don't remind me - that I permitted You to be stolen, that I did not obey You, but stayed silent, and rejected you. Don't remind me that I yielded to fate, don't remind me, don't remind me.

Lemkovyno!
Please take me into your fold!

До тебе, Лемковино - земле ридна, ведут вшитки стежки i вшитки дороги.

Towards you, Lemkovyna - our native soil, lead all foot paths and all roads.

Ридна земля пiд ногами стає ся сьвятом дла виселених i емiграцї. Хоц i на коротко злiтуют ся до ридного гнiзда як до цiнного джерела духовной преницi жеби заспокоiти прагнiня лемкiвской души... бо серце плаче, не дає забити про ридни гори, про ридний край. Ту мож ся наслухати сьпiву, наозерати танцiв, натiшити забовом, чути i самому ся нарадити по свому. Мож ся надихати Лемковином а землю скропити слезом.

Under our feet, our native soil becomes sacred to those who were deported or emigrated. Even though for a short time they fly here, to their native nest, as if to the spiritual spring, to satiate earning of their Lemko soul..... because the heart is crying, can't forget its native mountains, its native land. Here one can hear singing, observe dances, enjoy entertainment, hear and participate in conversations in our "own" language.
One can breath Lemkovyna's air, and shed few tears.

Амфiтеатром є зелений берижок а при нiм потичок черчит. Камениста дорижка а наоколо запах грабаного сiна i шум лiсу. На берижку тоти, для котрих ридна Лемкiвщина є смаком, хоц i пiсного, але свого кавальчика хлiба. Присяд ся i ти на горбочок, а дидня, за роси почуєш, як тя кличе Мати.

A hillside serves for the amphitheater, with a nearby babbling brook. A rocky, dirt road, and the fragrance of nearby dry hay fill the air. Along the hillside sit those to whom native Lemkivshchyna brings back the taste, even though it's bland, but our own piece of bread. Come, also sit down, and before the morning dew, you too will feel, Mother's calling.

В програмi ВАТРИ сут конкурси iсторii, географii, бесiди, є вибiр "мiсс", виступлюют ансамблi. Серед свого вирастают i наймолодши: дiти i молодiж, яки берут удiл в конкурсах малюнкiв, сьпiву i рецитацii. Ту можна видiти дiдову чугу i обiзрити вечерки а i загуляти обертана.

VATRA program consists of quizzes, a "Miss" is chosen, and ensemble performances. Even young children and youth are being raised among their own: they also participate in various competitions. Here you can see grandfather's "chuha", get a glimpse of evening singing, and even dance an "obertana".

През три дни на фалаток Лемкiвщини вертат житя, з його власном, неповторном атмосфером. Вечерами при огни бесiдам, споминам, i сьпiвам не є кiнця. Ридне, плекане на чужинi, не раз скриване, ту серед своiх стає ся нормальне i вибухат. Серце росне, коли ся видит тилько свого народу разом. Утверджатся в чловеку переконаня, же захованя i переданя наступним поколiням свого ридного є обовязком Лемкiв, i хоц не паз тяжким, то можливим!

For three days, on a narrow stip of Lemkivshchyna, life returns, with its own, unrecurring atmosphere. In the evening, by the open fire, there is no end to conversation, reminiscing, and singing. Native, but raised abroad, frequently concealed, here among your own, it becomes normal, and one is frequently overwhelmed. One's heart grows, when you see so many of your own people together. One becomes convinced, that to maintain and to pass our traditions on to subsequent generations of Lemkos, even when not easy, can be accomplished.

Hey, "zabava", "zabava" until daylight
Hey "zabava", "zabava" through the night
I danced, danced until morning
Hey, I danced, danced through the entire night.

Come home!
Come to VATRA!

English translation by Walter Maksimovich, January 1997.

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Document Information Document URL:http://lemko.org/magura/vatra/vatraph.html

Page prepared by Walter Maksimovich
E-mail: walter@lemko.org