Explore "Iconoclasm" by Taras Shevchenko on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Bright light, peaceful light, / Free light, light unbound!
What is this, brother light?
In thy warm home thou'rt found / By censers smoked, / By priests' robes choked, / Fettered and fooled / And by Icons ruled.
Yield thee not in the fight, / Waken up, brother light!
Shed thy pure rays / On mankind's ways.
All priestly robes in rags we'll tear / And light our pipes from censers rare, / With Icons now the flames will roar, / With holy brooms we'll sweep the floor.