TO THE DON
Martha Dickinson Bianchi translation
Through the Steppes, see there he glances! Silent flood glad hailed by me,— Thy far distant sons do proffer Through me, greeting fond to thee!
Every stream knows thee as brother, Don, thou river boasted wide! The Araxes and Euphrates Send thee greeting as they glide.
Fresh and strengthened for pursuing, Scenting home within thy gleam— Drink again the Don'ish horses, Flowing boundary, of thy stream!
Faithful Don! There also greet thee Thy true warriors bold and free— Let thy vineyard's foaming bubbles In the glass be spilled to thee!
PUSHKIN.
The valley of the Don is the home of the Russian Cossack.