| 5:07p |
The Willows of Dnieper (a Varangian song)
Down the mighty river sail we
On the shields the hilts ring hollow,
Let the willows weep for thee
If we don’t come back tomorrow
Our thane is strong and free,
Hath no need to beg or borrow.
Let the willows weep for thee
If we don’t come back tomorrow.
Many eye us wistfully,
Who tend a byre, or till a furrow,
Let the willows weep for thee
If we don’t come back tomorrow.
In the fight the swords rein free,
Axes hew and spears harrow -
Ring the cries of victory
Fierce at the dawn of morrow.
Let the oars rise so quickly
Long boat’s draught is deep, not shallow,
With the haul homeward go we,
On the wings of winds that follow.
There stands upon a bree
Hoary Kiy’s erstwhile borough,
And the willows now greet thee
With the tears of joy, not sorrow.
Такое беззастенчивое подражание Киплингу.
Совсем уж неофолк какой-то получается.
Да, песенка такая пишется. Голосом бы вытянуть, ага. |