Classic Poem

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 the rocky steeps a horse is standing;
It is neighing aloud that Love may succour;
It is pawing the earth in woe and anguish.

Beside the horse a soldier is lying;
Above them circles a huge bird flying …
Beside the soldier his mother is crying.

“The flag was lost—why lose my life too?
The men were falling—then why not fly?
O mother mine, be not so sorry—
I cannot bear to see you cry!

“They cut me to pieces, but did not kill me.
My head in four, my heart in six.
My white, white fingers they cut in pieces
As if they were but wooden sticks;

“My body white, fine as seeds of poppy—
I was sore wounded in my flight.
O mother mine, be not so sorry
To see your son in such a plight!

“Look for a carpenter, look for a doctor.
The doctor cannot help me greatly;
The carpenter a house will make me.

“This house no doors nor windows knoweth,
But when from toil the workman goeth
He then on me a gift bestoweth.

“When all is lost and all is finished,
My builder and my war—good-bye,
O mother mine, cease from your weeping,
Because your son is going to die!”