The Night of Taras

[Contents]The Night of TarasThe Night of TarasBy the road the Kobzar satAnd on his kobza played.Around him youths and maidensLike poppy flowers arrayed.So the Kobzar played and sangOf many an old old story;Of wars with Russian, Pole and TartarAnd the ancient Cossack glory.He sang of the wars of Taras brave,Of battle fought in the morning early,Of the fallen Cossack’s grass-grown graveTill smiles and tears did mingle fairly.“Once on a time the Hetmans ruled,It comes not back again;In olden days we masters wereThis never comes again.These glories of old Cossack loreShall be forgotten nevermore.Ukraine, Ukraine!Mother mine. Mother mine![31]When I remember theeHow mournful should I be.What has come of our Cossacks boldWith coats of velvet red?What of freedom by fate foretold,And banners the Hetmans led?Whither is it gone?In flames it went:O’er hills and tombs,The floods were sent.The hills are wraptin silence grim,On boundless seawaves ever play;The tombs gleam forthwith sadness dim;O’er all the landthe foe holds sway.Play on, oh sea,Hills silent be:Dance, mighty wind,O’er all the land.Weep, Cossack youth,Your fate withstand.Now who shall our adviser be?Then out spake Naleweiko,A Cossack bold was he,After him PauliohaLike falcon swift did flee.[32]Out spake Taras TraseloWith bitter words and true,“That they trampled on UkrainaFor sure the Poles shall rue.”Out spake Taras Traselo,Out spake the eagle grey.Rescue for the faith he wrought,Well indeed the Poles he taught.“Let’s make an end of our woe.An end come now to your woe,Arise, my gentle comrades, allUpon the Poles with blows we’ll fall.”Three days of wardid the land deliver.From the Delta’s shoreto Trubail’s river.The fields are coveredwith dead, in course,But weary nowis the Cossack force.Now the dirty Polish rulerWas feeling very jolly,Gathered all his lords together,For a time of feast and folly.Taras did his Cossacks gatherTo have a little talk together.“Captains and comrades,My children and brothers,[33]What are we now to do?Our hated foes are feasting,I want advice from you.”“Let them feast away,It’s fine for their health.When the sun descends,Old night her counsel lends;The Cossacks’ll catch them,and all of their wealth.”The sun reclined beyond the hillThe stars shone out in silence still,Around the Poles the Cossack hostWas gathering like a cloud;So soon the moon stood in the skyWhen roared the cannon loud.Woke up the Polish lordlings,To run they found no place.Woke up the Polish lordlings,The foe they could not face.The sun beheld the Polish lordlings,In heaps all o’er the place.With red serpent on the water,River Alta brings the word—That black vultures after slaughterMay feast on many a Polish lord.And now the vultures hastenThe mighty dead to waken.[34]Together the Cossacks gatherPraise to God to offer.While black vultures scream,O’er the corpses fight.Then the Cossacks singA hymn to the night;That night of famous storyFull of blood and glory.That night that put the Poles to sleepThe while on them their foes did creep.Beyond the streamin open fieldA burial moundgleams darkly:Where the Cossack blood was shedThere grows the grass full greenly.On the tomb a raven sits:With hunger sore he’s screaming.Waiting near a Cossack weeps:Of days of old he’s dreaming.”The Kobzar ceased in sadnessHis hands would no longer play:Around him youths and maidensWere wiping the tears away.By the path the Kobzar makes his way,To get rid of his grief he starts to play.And now the youngsters are dancing gay,And then heopeshis lips to say:[35]“Skip off, my children,To some nice warm corner,Of griefs enough;I’ll no longer be mourner.To the bar I’ll goand find my good wifeAnd there we’ll havethe time of our life.For so we’ll drink away our woesAnd make no end of fun of our foes.”Magpie.[36]

[Contents]The Night of TarasThe Night of TarasBy the road the Kobzar satAnd on his kobza played.Around him youths and maidensLike poppy flowers arrayed.So the Kobzar played and sangOf many an old old story;Of wars with Russian, Pole and TartarAnd the ancient Cossack glory.He sang of the wars of Taras brave,Of battle fought in the morning early,Of the fallen Cossack’s grass-grown graveTill smiles and tears did mingle fairly.“Once on a time the Hetmans ruled,It comes not back again;In olden days we masters wereThis never comes again.These glories of old Cossack loreShall be forgotten nevermore.Ukraine, Ukraine!Mother mine. Mother mine![31]When I remember theeHow mournful should I be.What has come of our Cossacks boldWith coats of velvet red?What of freedom by fate foretold,And banners the Hetmans led?Whither is it gone?In flames it went:O’er hills and tombs,The floods were sent.The hills are wraptin silence grim,On boundless seawaves ever play;The tombs gleam forthwith sadness dim;O’er all the landthe foe holds sway.Play on, oh sea,Hills silent be:Dance, mighty wind,O’er all the land.Weep, Cossack youth,Your fate withstand.Now who shall our adviser be?Then out spake Naleweiko,A Cossack bold was he,After him PauliohaLike falcon swift did flee.[32]Out spake Taras TraseloWith bitter words and true,“That they trampled on UkrainaFor sure the Poles shall rue.”Out spake Taras Traselo,Out spake the eagle grey.Rescue for the faith he wrought,Well indeed the Poles he taught.“Let’s make an end of our woe.An end come now to your woe,Arise, my gentle comrades, allUpon the Poles with blows we’ll fall.”Three days of wardid the land deliver.From the Delta’s shoreto Trubail’s river.The fields are coveredwith dead, in course,But weary nowis the Cossack force.Now the dirty Polish rulerWas feeling very jolly,Gathered all his lords together,For a time of feast and folly.Taras did his Cossacks gatherTo have a little talk together.“Captains and comrades,My children and brothers,[33]What are we now to do?Our hated foes are feasting,I want advice from you.”“Let them feast away,It’s fine for their health.When the sun descends,Old night her counsel lends;The Cossacks’ll catch them,and all of their wealth.”The sun reclined beyond the hillThe stars shone out in silence still,Around the Poles the Cossack hostWas gathering like a cloud;So soon the moon stood in the skyWhen roared the cannon loud.Woke up the Polish lordlings,To run they found no place.Woke up the Polish lordlings,The foe they could not face.The sun beheld the Polish lordlings,In heaps all o’er the place.With red serpent on the water,River Alta brings the word—That black vultures after slaughterMay feast on many a Polish lord.And now the vultures hastenThe mighty dead to waken.[34]Together the Cossacks gatherPraise to God to offer.While black vultures scream,O’er the corpses fight.Then the Cossacks singA hymn to the night;That night of famous storyFull of blood and glory.That night that put the Poles to sleepThe while on them their foes did creep.Beyond the streamin open fieldA burial moundgleams darkly:Where the Cossack blood was shedThere grows the grass full greenly.On the tomb a raven sits:With hunger sore he’s screaming.Waiting near a Cossack weeps:Of days of old he’s dreaming.”The Kobzar ceased in sadnessHis hands would no longer play:Around him youths and maidensWere wiping the tears away.By the path the Kobzar makes his way,To get rid of his grief he starts to play.And now the youngsters are dancing gay,And then heopeshis lips to say:[35]“Skip off, my children,To some nice warm corner,Of griefs enough;I’ll no longer be mourner.To the bar I’ll goand find my good wifeAnd there we’ll havethe time of our life.For so we’ll drink away our woesAnd make no end of fun of our foes.”Magpie.[36]

The Night of TarasThe Night of TarasBy the road the Kobzar satAnd on his kobza played.Around him youths and maidensLike poppy flowers arrayed.So the Kobzar played and sangOf many an old old story;Of wars with Russian, Pole and TartarAnd the ancient Cossack glory.He sang of the wars of Taras brave,Of battle fought in the morning early,Of the fallen Cossack’s grass-grown graveTill smiles and tears did mingle fairly.“Once on a time the Hetmans ruled,It comes not back again;In olden days we masters wereThis never comes again.These glories of old Cossack loreShall be forgotten nevermore.Ukraine, Ukraine!Mother mine. Mother mine![31]When I remember theeHow mournful should I be.What has come of our Cossacks boldWith coats of velvet red?What of freedom by fate foretold,And banners the Hetmans led?Whither is it gone?In flames it went:O’er hills and tombs,The floods were sent.The hills are wraptin silence grim,On boundless seawaves ever play;The tombs gleam forthwith sadness dim;O’er all the landthe foe holds sway.Play on, oh sea,Hills silent be:Dance, mighty wind,O’er all the land.Weep, Cossack youth,Your fate withstand.Now who shall our adviser be?Then out spake Naleweiko,A Cossack bold was he,After him PauliohaLike falcon swift did flee.[32]Out spake Taras TraseloWith bitter words and true,“That they trampled on UkrainaFor sure the Poles shall rue.”Out spake Taras Traselo,Out spake the eagle grey.Rescue for the faith he wrought,Well indeed the Poles he taught.“Let’s make an end of our woe.An end come now to your woe,Arise, my gentle comrades, allUpon the Poles with blows we’ll fall.”Three days of wardid the land deliver.From the Delta’s shoreto Trubail’s river.The fields are coveredwith dead, in course,But weary nowis the Cossack force.Now the dirty Polish rulerWas feeling very jolly,Gathered all his lords together,For a time of feast and folly.Taras did his Cossacks gatherTo have a little talk together.“Captains and comrades,My children and brothers,[33]What are we now to do?Our hated foes are feasting,I want advice from you.”“Let them feast away,It’s fine for their health.When the sun descends,Old night her counsel lends;The Cossacks’ll catch them,and all of their wealth.”The sun reclined beyond the hillThe stars shone out in silence still,Around the Poles the Cossack hostWas gathering like a cloud;So soon the moon stood in the skyWhen roared the cannon loud.Woke up the Polish lordlings,To run they found no place.Woke up the Polish lordlings,The foe they could not face.The sun beheld the Polish lordlings,In heaps all o’er the place.With red serpent on the water,River Alta brings the word—That black vultures after slaughterMay feast on many a Polish lord.And now the vultures hastenThe mighty dead to waken.[34]Together the Cossacks gatherPraise to God to offer.While black vultures scream,O’er the corpses fight.Then the Cossacks singA hymn to the night;That night of famous storyFull of blood and glory.That night that put the Poles to sleepThe while on them their foes did creep.Beyond the streamin open fieldA burial moundgleams darkly:Where the Cossack blood was shedThere grows the grass full greenly.On the tomb a raven sits:With hunger sore he’s screaming.Waiting near a Cossack weeps:Of days of old he’s dreaming.”The Kobzar ceased in sadnessHis hands would no longer play:Around him youths and maidensWere wiping the tears away.By the path the Kobzar makes his way,To get rid of his grief he starts to play.And now the youngsters are dancing gay,And then heopeshis lips to say:[35]“Skip off, my children,To some nice warm corner,Of griefs enough;I’ll no longer be mourner.To the bar I’ll goand find my good wifeAnd there we’ll havethe time of our life.For so we’ll drink away our woesAnd make no end of fun of our foes.”

The Night of Taras

By the road the Kobzar satAnd on his kobza played.Around him youths and maidensLike poppy flowers arrayed.So the Kobzar played and sangOf many an old old story;Of wars with Russian, Pole and TartarAnd the ancient Cossack glory.He sang of the wars of Taras brave,Of battle fought in the morning early,Of the fallen Cossack’s grass-grown graveTill smiles and tears did mingle fairly.“Once on a time the Hetmans ruled,It comes not back again;In olden days we masters wereThis never comes again.These glories of old Cossack loreShall be forgotten nevermore.Ukraine, Ukraine!Mother mine. Mother mine![31]When I remember theeHow mournful should I be.What has come of our Cossacks boldWith coats of velvet red?What of freedom by fate foretold,And banners the Hetmans led?Whither is it gone?In flames it went:O’er hills and tombs,The floods were sent.The hills are wraptin silence grim,On boundless seawaves ever play;The tombs gleam forthwith sadness dim;O’er all the landthe foe holds sway.Play on, oh sea,Hills silent be:Dance, mighty wind,O’er all the land.Weep, Cossack youth,Your fate withstand.Now who shall our adviser be?Then out spake Naleweiko,A Cossack bold was he,After him PauliohaLike falcon swift did flee.[32]Out spake Taras TraseloWith bitter words and true,“That they trampled on UkrainaFor sure the Poles shall rue.”Out spake Taras Traselo,Out spake the eagle grey.Rescue for the faith he wrought,Well indeed the Poles he taught.“Let’s make an end of our woe.An end come now to your woe,Arise, my gentle comrades, allUpon the Poles with blows we’ll fall.”Three days of wardid the land deliver.From the Delta’s shoreto Trubail’s river.The fields are coveredwith dead, in course,But weary nowis the Cossack force.Now the dirty Polish rulerWas feeling very jolly,Gathered all his lords together,For a time of feast and folly.Taras did his Cossacks gatherTo have a little talk together.“Captains and comrades,My children and brothers,[33]What are we now to do?Our hated foes are feasting,I want advice from you.”“Let them feast away,It’s fine for their health.When the sun descends,Old night her counsel lends;The Cossacks’ll catch them,and all of their wealth.”The sun reclined beyond the hillThe stars shone out in silence still,Around the Poles the Cossack hostWas gathering like a cloud;So soon the moon stood in the skyWhen roared the cannon loud.Woke up the Polish lordlings,To run they found no place.Woke up the Polish lordlings,The foe they could not face.The sun beheld the Polish lordlings,In heaps all o’er the place.With red serpent on the water,River Alta brings the word—That black vultures after slaughterMay feast on many a Polish lord.And now the vultures hastenThe mighty dead to waken.[34]Together the Cossacks gatherPraise to God to offer.While black vultures scream,O’er the corpses fight.Then the Cossacks singA hymn to the night;That night of famous storyFull of blood and glory.That night that put the Poles to sleepThe while on them their foes did creep.Beyond the streamin open fieldA burial moundgleams darkly:Where the Cossack blood was shedThere grows the grass full greenly.On the tomb a raven sits:With hunger sore he’s screaming.Waiting near a Cossack weeps:Of days of old he’s dreaming.”The Kobzar ceased in sadnessHis hands would no longer play:Around him youths and maidensWere wiping the tears away.By the path the Kobzar makes his way,To get rid of his grief he starts to play.And now the youngsters are dancing gay,And then heopeshis lips to say:[35]“Skip off, my children,To some nice warm corner,Of griefs enough;I’ll no longer be mourner.To the bar I’ll goand find my good wifeAnd there we’ll havethe time of our life.For so we’ll drink away our woesAnd make no end of fun of our foes.”

By the road the Kobzar satAnd on his kobza played.Around him youths and maidensLike poppy flowers arrayed.

By the road the Kobzar sat

And on his kobza played.

Around him youths and maidens

Like poppy flowers arrayed.

So the Kobzar played and sangOf many an old old story;Of wars with Russian, Pole and TartarAnd the ancient Cossack glory.

So the Kobzar played and sang

Of many an old old story;

Of wars with Russian, Pole and Tartar

And the ancient Cossack glory.

He sang of the wars of Taras brave,Of battle fought in the morning early,Of the fallen Cossack’s grass-grown graveTill smiles and tears did mingle fairly.

He sang of the wars of Taras brave,

Of battle fought in the morning early,

Of the fallen Cossack’s grass-grown grave

Till smiles and tears did mingle fairly.

“Once on a time the Hetmans ruled,It comes not back again;In olden days we masters wereThis never comes again.These glories of old Cossack loreShall be forgotten nevermore.

“Once on a time the Hetmans ruled,

It comes not back again;

In olden days we masters were

This never comes again.

These glories of old Cossack lore

Shall be forgotten nevermore.

Ukraine, Ukraine!Mother mine. Mother mine![31]When I remember theeHow mournful should I be.

Ukraine, Ukraine!

Mother mine. Mother mine![31]

When I remember thee

How mournful should I be.

What has come of our Cossacks boldWith coats of velvet red?What of freedom by fate foretold,And banners the Hetmans led?

What has come of our Cossacks bold

With coats of velvet red?

What of freedom by fate foretold,

And banners the Hetmans led?

Whither is it gone?In flames it went:O’er hills and tombs,The floods were sent.The hills are wraptin silence grim,On boundless seawaves ever play;The tombs gleam forthwith sadness dim;O’er all the landthe foe holds sway.

Whither is it gone?

In flames it went:

O’er hills and tombs,

The floods were sent.

The hills are wrapt

in silence grim,

On boundless sea

waves ever play;

The tombs gleam forth

with sadness dim;

O’er all the land

the foe holds sway.

Play on, oh sea,Hills silent be:Dance, mighty wind,O’er all the land.Weep, Cossack youth,Your fate withstand.

Play on, oh sea,

Hills silent be:

Dance, mighty wind,

O’er all the land.

Weep, Cossack youth,

Your fate withstand.

Now who shall our adviser be?Then out spake Naleweiko,A Cossack bold was he,After him PauliohaLike falcon swift did flee.

Now who shall our adviser be?

Then out spake Naleweiko,

A Cossack bold was he,

After him Paulioha

Like falcon swift did flee.

[32]

Out spake Taras TraseloWith bitter words and true,“That they trampled on UkrainaFor sure the Poles shall rue.”Out spake Taras Traselo,Out spake the eagle grey.Rescue for the faith he wrought,Well indeed the Poles he taught.“Let’s make an end of our woe.An end come now to your woe,Arise, my gentle comrades, allUpon the Poles with blows we’ll fall.”

Out spake Taras Traselo

With bitter words and true,

“That they trampled on Ukraina

For sure the Poles shall rue.”

Out spake Taras Traselo,

Out spake the eagle grey.

Rescue for the faith he wrought,

Well indeed the Poles he taught.

“Let’s make an end of our woe.

An end come now to your woe,

Arise, my gentle comrades, all

Upon the Poles with blows we’ll fall.”

Three days of wardid the land deliver.From the Delta’s shoreto Trubail’s river.The fields are coveredwith dead, in course,But weary nowis the Cossack force.

Three days of war

did the land deliver.

From the Delta’s shore

to Trubail’s river.

The fields are covered

with dead, in course,

But weary now

is the Cossack force.

Now the dirty Polish rulerWas feeling very jolly,Gathered all his lords together,For a time of feast and folly.Taras did his Cossacks gatherTo have a little talk together.

Now the dirty Polish ruler

Was feeling very jolly,

Gathered all his lords together,

For a time of feast and folly.

Taras did his Cossacks gather

To have a little talk together.

“Captains and comrades,My children and brothers,[33]What are we now to do?Our hated foes are feasting,I want advice from you.”

“Captains and comrades,

My children and brothers,[33]

What are we now to do?

Our hated foes are feasting,

I want advice from you.”

“Let them feast away,It’s fine for their health.

“Let them feast away,

It’s fine for their health.

When the sun descends,Old night her counsel lends;The Cossacks’ll catch them,and all of their wealth.”

When the sun descends,

Old night her counsel lends;

The Cossacks’ll catch them,

and all of their wealth.”

The sun reclined beyond the hillThe stars shone out in silence still,Around the Poles the Cossack hostWas gathering like a cloud;So soon the moon stood in the skyWhen roared the cannon loud.

The sun reclined beyond the hill

The stars shone out in silence still,

Around the Poles the Cossack host

Was gathering like a cloud;

So soon the moon stood in the sky

When roared the cannon loud.

Woke up the Polish lordlings,To run they found no place.Woke up the Polish lordlings,The foe they could not face.The sun beheld the Polish lordlings,In heaps all o’er the place.With red serpent on the water,River Alta brings the word—That black vultures after slaughterMay feast on many a Polish lord.

Woke up the Polish lordlings,

To run they found no place.

Woke up the Polish lordlings,

The foe they could not face.

The sun beheld the Polish lordlings,

In heaps all o’er the place.

With red serpent on the water,

River Alta brings the word—

That black vultures after slaughter

May feast on many a Polish lord.

And now the vultures hastenThe mighty dead to waken.[34]Together the Cossacks gatherPraise to God to offer.

And now the vultures hasten

The mighty dead to waken.[34]

Together the Cossacks gather

Praise to God to offer.

While black vultures scream,O’er the corpses fight.Then the Cossacks singA hymn to the night;That night of famous storyFull of blood and glory.That night that put the Poles to sleepThe while on them their foes did creep.

While black vultures scream,

O’er the corpses fight.

Then the Cossacks sing

A hymn to the night;

That night of famous story

Full of blood and glory.

That night that put the Poles to sleep

The while on them their foes did creep.

Beyond the streamin open fieldA burial moundgleams darkly:Where the Cossack blood was shedThere grows the grass full greenly.

Beyond the stream

in open field

A burial mound

gleams darkly:

Where the Cossack blood was shed

There grows the grass full greenly.

On the tomb a raven sits:With hunger sore he’s screaming.Waiting near a Cossack weeps:Of days of old he’s dreaming.”

On the tomb a raven sits:

With hunger sore he’s screaming.

Waiting near a Cossack weeps:

Of days of old he’s dreaming.”

The Kobzar ceased in sadnessHis hands would no longer play:Around him youths and maidensWere wiping the tears away.By the path the Kobzar makes his way,To get rid of his grief he starts to play.And now the youngsters are dancing gay,And then heopeshis lips to say:

The Kobzar ceased in sadness

His hands would no longer play:

Around him youths and maidens

Were wiping the tears away.

By the path the Kobzar makes his way,

To get rid of his grief he starts to play.

And now the youngsters are dancing gay,

And then heopeshis lips to say:

[35]

“Skip off, my children,To some nice warm corner,Of griefs enough;I’ll no longer be mourner.

“Skip off, my children,

To some nice warm corner,

Of griefs enough;

I’ll no longer be mourner.

To the bar I’ll goand find my good wifeAnd there we’ll havethe time of our life.For so we’ll drink away our woesAnd make no end of fun of our foes.”

To the bar I’ll go

and find my good wife

And there we’ll have

the time of our life.

For so we’ll drink away our woes

And make no end of fun of our foes.”

Magpie.[36]

Magpie.

[36]


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