Page:The Kobzar of the Ukraine.pdf/86

84 ::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.