The great heart of Belarus awakens To greet this new day. Her face shines brightly Against centuries of subjection To ill-fitting lowness. She rises proudly, casts off Her tattered prisoner’s garment Worn threadbare by generations of toil. She washes her face, cleans her feet Rinses from her hands The grit and grime of oppression. This morning she knows— Liberty awaits her in the open air. This morning she feels again— Magnificent she stands Clothed in white, Arrayed in innocence The kind of purity of heart That repels bullets And disarms men. Men begin to join her— Drawn forth by grace under pressure, Her soul, keeper of refiner’s fire, Love’s inviolable flame. It is done-- Peace be unto her again That she may feel as she once did, That she may walk with head held high And not be beaten back into the shadows. Awake! Arise, fair Belarus. Awake! Arise!