"Fame to us, death to you,
Alla-ha, Alla-hu!!"
SEMICHORUS.
"Weep, O ye maidens, on mountain and valley,
Lift the dirge for the sons of the brave;
We have fired our last bullet, have made our last rally,
And Caucasus gives us a grave.
Here the soft pipe no more shall invite us to slumber
—The thunder our lullaby sings;
Our eyes not the maiden's dark tresses shall cumber,
Them the raven shall shade with his wings!
Forget, O my children, your father's stern duty—
No more shall he bring ye the Muscovite booty!"
SECOND SEMICHORUS.
"Weep not, O ye maidens; your sisters in splendour,
The Houris, they bend from the sky,
They fix on the brave their sun-glance deep and tender,
And to Paradise bear him on high!
In your feast-cup, my brethren, forget not our story;
The death of the Free is the noblest of glory!"
FIRST SEMICHORUS.
"Roar, winter torrent, and sullenly dash!
But where is the brave one—the swift lightning-flash?
Soft star of my soul, my mother,
Sleep, the fire let ashes smother;
Gaze no more, shine eyes are weary,
Sit not by the threshold stone;
Gaze not through the night-fog dreary,
Eat thine evening meal alone,
Seek him not, O mother, weeping,
By the cliff and by the ford:
On a bed of dust he's sleeping—
Broken is both heart and sword!"
SECOND SEMICHORUS.
"Mother, weep not! with thy love burning:
This heart of mine beats full and free,
And to lion-blood is turning
That soft milks I drew from thee;
And our liberty from danger
Thy brave son has guarded well;
Battling with the Christian stranger,
Call'd by Azrael, he fell;
From my blood fresh odours breathing
Fadeless flowers shall drink the dew;
To my children fame bequeathing,
Brethren, and revenge to you!"