Anchored Beneath the Statue of Liberty | An Immigrant's Song. Presenting my album Black Flag Rising

There are places in the world that make you stop talking. Anchoring my sailboat *Mirage* just beneath the Statue of Liberty was one of those moments. As someone born in Russia, I've always carried the stories of those who lost everything after the Revolution of 1917. Millions were forced to leave their homeland, scattering across Europe and beyond. Their hopes, heartbreak, and longing found their way into songs that, over time, have largely been forgotten. This video is my own English adaptation of one of those songs. It's the story of a young woman whose privileged life vanished overnight, whose father was executed, and who found herself surviving among fellow refugees in Paris. More than anything, it's a song about exile, dignity, and the price people pay when history changes their lives forever. Standing beneath the Statue of Liberty - a symbol of hope for generations of immigrants - I couldn't imagine a more meaningful place to sing it. Whether your family came to America generations ago or only recently, I hope this song reminds us that behind every immigrant is a deeply personal story. Thank you for watching. Full album here: Black Flag Rising: x Also, this and all my albums by SY Mirage are available on : Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/album/5OkTeVEa0F8vSJCPiQtrvr Apple Music: https://music.apple.com/us/album/black-flag-rising-ep/6809681376 iTunes: https://music.apple.com/us/album/black-flag-rising-ep/6809681376 Amazon Music: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0HJ4WHW7T/ ⛵ Boat: *Mirage* (Amel 50) 📍Anchored in New York Harbor, beneath the Statue of Liberty If you enjoy sailing adventures, history, and meaningful journeys, I'd love to have you aboard. Please subscribe and join me on the next voyage. Song Lyrics: Don’t stare at me so through your narrowed eyes, You gentlemen, barons, and ladies. In twenty short minutes, I couldn’t get high On one glass of ice-cold brandy. For I was a schoolgirl, a chamberlain’s daughter, A black little moth, I’m the bat in the night. Wine and men — they are my air and water, The shelter of exiles, free Paris in light. My father in October failed to flee, Though much for the Whites he had given. Then came the hour, and cold as could be, That cold word — “execution” — was written. The tribunal’s sentence rang out like fire, And now I’m a bar fairy, bought with a kiss. A black little moth, with wings of desire, Wine and men — and refugee Paris. I told the colonel, “Here, take what you wanted, Don’t pay me in Don Cossack pride. Pay me in francs, sir, for love that you hunted, The rest is just dust on the roadside.” And now I’m a bar fairy, bought with a kiss, A black little moth, I’m the bat in the night. Wine and men are the air I exist in, The shelter of exiles, free Paris in light. Only sometimes, when wild passion shakes me, I remember Odessa, her dust and her sky. Then I spit in their drooling faces that take me, And the rest is a sorrow gone by. For I was a schoolgirl, a chamberlain’s daughter, A black little moth, I’m the bat in the night. Wine and men — they are my air and water, The shelter of exiles, free Paris in light.