Classic Poem

S. R UDANSKY

I N the year 1600, in that God's year,
A letter came from Akhmet
To our Zaporogie:
" I, Sultan, the son of Mohammed,
The grandson of the one God,
The brother of the Crescent
And even of the Sun;
Knight strong and great,
King of Kings,
Champion of all the world,
And Tzar of Tzars:
Tzar of Constantinople,
Tzar of Macedonia,
Greece, Serbia, Moldavia;
Tzar of Babylon, Podolia and Halych,
And glorious Krimea:
Tzar of Egypt, Arabia, Jerusalem,
The Keeper of the Tomb in Jerusalem
And of your God;
I am the Sorrow and the Help
Of all Christian men —
I say to ye, Cossacks,
Surrender!
Or expect no good from me. "

In the same year the Zaporogians
Read the Letter
And said to their foe, the Sultan:
" Thou, Sultan, art the devil's son,
The grandson of Haspid himself,
And thou, a horned chort!

" Thou art but a wretched inn-keeper
In Constantinople;
A Macedonian brewer,
Greek and Moldavian swine,
And Babylonian blacksmith;

" Thou oppressor of Serbia and Podolia,
Krimean parrot, Egyptian swine-herd;
Owl of Jerusalem!
No help of Christians art thou, but a fool;
No protector of our God.
Thou art not worthy to kiss us anywhere —
Nor worthy to hold our Zaporogie.

" We shall fight thee
By land and sea!
We do not fear thee,
Thou son of a dog!
Such is our answer!

" We know not what year this may be,
Because we have no calendars in our Seech —
Our " Meassiatz" is now in the heaven;
This day is the same day as with you.
Then, Turks, after these words
Try to take us! "