THE SONG OF THE KAZAK
Martha Dickinson Bianchi translation
Kazak speeds ever toward the North, Kazak has never heart for rest, Not on the field, nor in the wood, Nor when in face of danger pressed His steed the raging stream must breast!
Kazak speeds ever toward the North, With him a mighty power brings, To win the honour of his land Kazak his life unheeding flings— Till fame of him eternal sings!
Kazak brought all Siberia At foot of Russia's throne to lie, Kazak left glory in the Alps, His name the Turk can terrify, His flag he ever carries high!
Kazak speeds ever toward the North, Kazak has never heart for rest, Not on the field, nor in the wood, Nor when in face of danger pressed His steed the raging stream must breast!
PUSHKIN.
The accent in singing falls sharply on the second half—Kazák.