IN TURKISH CAPTIVITY

On the blue sea waves are roaring,

Mountain high they tower.

Crying in their Turkish dungeon

Wretched Cossacks cower.

“Why, O gracious God, this torture?

Two years now we lie here;

With the chains our hands are heavy—

Wilt Thou let us die here?

“Wings of Ukraina’s Eaglets,

Yanichars [^[29]] cut, throwing

In the grave the living victims,

All their sorrow knowing.

“Hai! Ye youthful Zaporogians,[^[30]]

Have ye not arisen?

Sons of Freedom, ever glorious,

Rescue us from prison!”