84
THE KOBZAR OF THE UKRAINE
all our present misery
To the wealth
Our fathers stole
Orphaned, indeed, would Dnieper be
with all his holy hills.
Faugh! if it should happen
that you would never come back,
Or get snuffed out
just where you were spawned
No children would weep
nor mothers lament,
Nor in God's house be heard
the story of your shame.
The sun would not shine
on the stench of your filth
O'er the clean, broad, free land,
Nor would the people know
what eagles you were
Nor turn their heads to gaze.
Arouse ye, be men!
For evil days come.
Quickly a people enchained
Shall tear off their fetters;
Judgment will come,
Dnieper and the hills will speak.
A hundred rivers
flow to the sea
with your children's blood,
Nor will there be any to help.
