A Hymn to School.

From class to class, we’ll go up as if on stairs,
And the horizons will be broaden by every class.
First and foremost, there will be abrogated
All of the articles which can discourage us.

Set up a new school for us, builder! —
A hotbed, a hothouse for our souls —
The place where even our teachers
Somehow in something will grow.

Let our school ever keep lively!
Be courteous, pick up what thy teacher will drop!
The pupils, who here will study,
Will certainly come out on top.

We’ll grind away at our books with firm insistence,
We’ll resurrect all what is causelessly given up,
All what is gray, we’ll scrape and whash till it is brilliant,
All what is shaded, we’ll uncover and light up.

Set up a new school for us, builder! —
A hotbed, a hothouse for our souls —
The place where even our teachers
Somehow in something will grow.

Let our school ever keep lively!
Be courteous, pick up what thy teacher will drop!
The pupils, who here will study,
Will certainly come out on top.

1980.