Old Ruthenian Folk-song
From “Slavic Songs”
Brother, whence comest thou?
From beyond Dunai?
What heardest thou in Ukraine?
Nothing have I heard,
Nothing have I seen
But horsemen on four sides.
The Russians have covered the mountain.
On that mountain a Turkish horse stands;
On the horse sits a Turk’s young son.
In his right hand he holds a sword;
From his left blood flows.
On that hill a crow is calling,
And a mother cries over her soldier son.
“Don’t cry, mother, do not grieve;
I am wounded, but not badly.
My head, in four pieces; my heart, in six;
My white hands in three pieces,
My white fingers in pieces,
My white body is as fine as poppy-seed.
“Look for a doctor, mother—
The doctor, the young carpenter.
Let him build for me a house
Without doors or windows,
For now am I at the end of my life.”
