works

Till they sing more fiercely!Yes, I hearken and I study,Learning from tie elders:What, my Fathers, do you tell me?“'Son, it is not cheerful 1For the Dnieper's angry at us,U kraina’s weeping” .And I weep. That self-same hourIn their shining squadronsAtamans set out a-niarching,Captains w ith their nobles.And the hetmans, gold-attired;To my humble cabinThey have come to sit around me,And of UkrainaThey will speak and tell me stories,How the Sitch was founded,How the Cossacks boldly traversed.Rapids, wafting downwards,How they reveled on the waters,Dashed into Scutari,How they lit their pipes belovedA t the Polish fires;Then came back to Ukraina,How they nobly feasted, . .“Play, kobzarl Pour out, 0 tapster I”And the Cossacks reveled.Tapster, pour and grow not wearyAnd the feast continues.So he sang and all the CossacksAs Khortitsya's bending.Fill their cups and dream their praisesAs the feast continues.Pitchers come and pass around them,Dry and empty leave them.“Revel, sir, without a tunic!Revel, wind, a-blowing!Play, kobzar, pour out, O tapster,While the humor strikes us I”Standing side by side the striplingDances with his elders:“Fine, O children; Good, 0 children IYou too will be heroes I"Atamans at the high banquetStand not with the others;They are walking, are conversing,And the noble heroesStand not quiet but they enter36