(_From various districts. A selection of folk-songs made into a song
cycle, some being fragmentary_)
I
WOROTA—THE GATES
Marusenka with her father pleadeth:
“My beloved father, close the gates,
Close the gates!
Do not let the Duke[4] come nigh—
Let not Wasylenko by.”
“Child beloved! Nay—he entreats
That I let him in, let him in.
Like the khmel, like the hop vines
Round the gates, see, he twines!
At the Table, like barwēnok.... Who allowed
Him to sit there? Proud—
Like a falcon,[5] proud!”