Classic Poem

The Harvesters are reaping on the hill-side,
And in the valley where the grass is green
The Cossacks leap astride their horses lean.

That gallant hetman, Doroshonko,
Is leading all his troop with right good-will—
Over at last the weary days of drill!

And see that captain stationed in the centre,
His steed is prancing, pawing up the ground…
Brave Sahaidachni, at the rear, looks round.

In fair exchange for pipe and for tobacco
He's said adieu to Priska, his good wife—
“Such a mistake! The greatest of my life!”

So is he thinking when he hears one calling:
“Come back, come back and take your wife once more;
My pipe and my tobacco please restore!”

“Ah, ha!” he shouts, “a wife I'll not be needing—
But your carved pipe is handy on the road.
What a fine thing you have on me bestowed!

“Hai! Who goes there? Pass, friend—and on we're faring;
With flint and steel I'll get a puff or two,
So then—don't worry—and good-bye to you.”