because naturally when waiting for Kindle to get its act together one sits and turns an epic book into poetry.
Dumka Bohuna
She was fair as the day, with her eyes dark as night;
He adored her, but filled her with fear!
To avoid his harsh love, she was forced into flight,
To escape and find her own true dear.
He rode through the night across all the steppe wild,
With his sabre loose, ready to draw,
And his heart hammered loud in his pain and his pride,
Until he could scarce bear it more.
He rode for his freedom, he rode for his love,
And the blood in his ears sang like steel
Which is hammered and quenched until it is proved;
Til his heart was too battered to feel.
He rode into battle; in frenzy he fought,
And his foes died like flies on his blade;
But still he was reft from the one whom he sought,
And vanished and gone was that maid.
She had fled to the arms of an enemy knight,
And the Cossack was shamed to the core;
He had fought to come home to his dearest delight,
Now there’s nothing left worth fighting for.
***
There’s a thousand long lances low to advance;
Behind face guards the visages grim;
And the line’s gaining speed as they move from the prance
To the gallop with vigour and vim.
The front rank of hussars meet hard-planted spears,
Though the shock knocks the pikemen aside;
Through the screams of the horses and stench of their fear
On into the foemen they ride.
The mud slows the horses, they falter and fall,
And their riders then tumble in mud;
The bright wings are taken, ‘No Mercy!’ the call;
Bright red clothing drips red with their blood.
But the knights of the wings rallied stronger again,
And they fell on the Cossack horde wild;
Showing the mettle of disciplined men
‘Gainst the rebels of honour defiled.
Yet the Cossacks fought on and they would not concede,
And belief in their cause drove them on;
Til the knight in the fortress in desperate need
Must then pray for relief from the crown.
They were caught in a trap and their glory brought low,
Of all that they needed bereft;
And the bravest of all was the first man to go
To bring aid to the ones who were left.
He died in a hailstorm of arrows they fired,
And his body displayed to his friends;
And hungry, despairing and terribly tired,
The maid’s knight to the king for amends.
Exhausted he fell when he reached his need’s goal,
And collapsed at the feet of the king!
Now relief might be sent, he had fulfilled his role,
And his fame assured, everlasting.
***
The battles were done, and the rebels made terms,
Too exhausted to fight any more.
Save the Cossack who loved and whose ardour still burns
And who rode singlehanded to war.
***
He was brought in a noose to his maiden’s true love,
Like a dog on a lead was displayed;
And though he prayed for death, cruel mercy was proved,
When released, for the love of the maid.
