ON THE MURDER OF YESSAUL TSHURAI.[36]

  O eagle, young gray eagle,
    Tshurai, thou youth so brave,
  In thine own land, the Pole,
    The Pole dug thee thy grave!

  The Pole dug thee thy grave,
    For thee and thy Hetman;
  They killed the two young heroes,
    Stephen, the valiant Pan.

  O eagle, young gray eagle,
    Thy brethren are eagles too;
  The old ones and the young ones,
    Their custom well they knew!

  The old ones and the young ones
    They are all brave like thee,
  An oath they all did take
    Avenged shalt thou be!

  The old ones and the young ones,
    In council grave they meet;
  They sit on coal black steeds,
    On steeds so brave and fleet.

  On steeds so brave and fleet
    They are flying, eagle like;
  In Polish towns and castles
    Like lightning they will strike.

  Of steel they carry lances,
    Lances so sharp and strong;
  With points as sharp as needles,
    With hooks so sharp and long.

  Of steel they carry sabres,
    Two edged, blunted never;
  To bring the Pole perdition
    For ever and for ever!

LAMENT FOR YESSAUL PUSHKAR.

  There flows a little river,
    And Worskla is its name;
  And of the little river
    Know old and young the fame.

  And on the little river,
    They know good songs to sing;
  And on the little river,
    They like good thoughts to think.

  O thoughts, ye manly thoughts,
    Ye call up sorrow and woe;
  O thoughts, ye manly thoughts,
    From you strong deeds can grow!

  Where are you, brave Kozaks? 
    Where are you, valiant lords? 
  Your bones are in the grave,
    In the deep moor your swords!

  Where art thou, O Pushkar? 
    Where art thou, valiant knight? 
  Ukraina weeps for thee,
    And for her fate so bright.

  His bones are in the grave,
    Himself with God is now;
  O weep, O weep, Ukraina,
    An orphan left art thou.

  Ukraina, thy bright fate
    Destroy’d Wihowski’s spell;[37]
  He with the heart of stone,
    And with the mind of hell!

The following melancholy song expresses the general hatred against the Pole, the oppressor, in a manner not less strong. Haidamack is another name for the Ruthenian peasant under Polish dominion, and was formerly, as well as Burlak, also applied to the Malo-Russian Kozaks in general.

SONG OF THE HAIDAMACK.[38]

  Gladly would I to the war,
      To the war so full of prey,
      Pleasure of the Haidamack! 
      But the steward bids me stay,
      Lest the proud Pole’s cows should stray!

  Gladly to the merry dance
      Would I on the gusli play,
      Pleasure of the rosy maid! 
      But the steward bids me stay,
      Lest the proud Pole’s sheep should stray!