“Don’t cry, Morozikha, don’t be sad.

Come with us Cossacks to drink wine-mead.”

“Drink your good health, if drink you would,

But around my head misfortune flies.

Drink your good health, if drink you may....

Oi, where does he fight, my son, my son!

Does he fight with the Tartars, one by one?”

“Don’t cry, Morozikha, don’t be sad;

Come with us Cossacks to look on....

For see! A horse walks behind a wagon,