A blood-drenched cart is driving by,
In that cart a Cossack lies,
Pierced his heart, empty his glance,
In his right hand he holds a lance,
And from this lance the blood runs down,
A river of blood pours on the ground.
Above the stream a maple bows,
Above the maple caws a crow.
Over the Cossack his mother cries.
Don't weep, mother, dry your eyes!
For your son has wed a wife,
The fairest young girl of his life.
In the wide field a house of clay,
No windows to let in the day.
And that's the end of all our song.
The fish and crayfish did a dance…
And if you don't love me, may your mother catch a chilli
So all songs had become confused in her. For a day, for two days, she has been living in her house, will hear nothing about Kiev, and does not pray, flees from people, and wanders from morning till late at night in the dark oak groves. Sharp twigs scratch her white face and shoulders; the wind tousles her unbraided tresses; old leaves rustle under her feet-she pays no heed to anything. At the hour when the sunset is fading and the stars have not yet appeared, the moon does not shine, but it is already frightening to walk in the forest: unbaptized children clamber up the trees, clutching at the branches; they sob, guffaw, roll in a tangle on the road and in the spreading nettles; maidens who destroyed their souls run out of the Dnieper's waves one after another; the hair streams from their green heads onto their shoulders, water runs loudly burbling down their long hair onto the ground; and a maiden shines through the water as through a shirt of glass; her lips smile strangely, her cheeks flush, her eyes lure one's soul out… she would burn up with love, she would kiss you to death.,. Flee, Christian man! her mouth is ice, her bed the cold water; she will tickle you all over and drag you into the river. Katerina pays no heed to anyone; the mad- woman has no fear of water nymphs, she runs about late at night with her knife out, searching for her father.
Early in the morning a visitor arrived, of comely appearance, in a red jacket, and inquired about Master Danilo; he hears it all, wipes his tearful eyes with his sleeve, and heaves his shoulders. Says he went to war together with the late Burulbash; together they fought the Crimeans and the Turks; would never have expected that such would be the end of Master Danilo. The visitor tells of many other things and wishes to see Mistress Katerina.
At first Katerina did not listen to anything the visitor said; in the end she began to listen as if reasonably to his words. He talked of having lived together with Master Danilo as brother with brother; of hiding from the Crimeans once under a dam… Katerina kept listening, not taking her eyes off him.
"She'll come round!" the lads thought, looking at her. "This visitor will cure her! She's already listening reasonably!"
The visitor meanwhile began telling how Master Danilo had told him, in a moment of frank conversation: "Look here, brother Koprian, if by the will of God I'm no longer in this world, take my wife and let her be your wife…"
Katerina pierced him terribly with her eyes. "Ah!" she cried out, "it's him! it's my father!" and she rushed at him with her knife.
He fought for a long time, trying to tear the knife away from her. At last he tore it away, swung-and a terrible deed was done: a father killed his mad daughter.
The amazed Cossacks were about to fall upon him; but the sorcerer had already leaped on his horse and vanished from sight.
XIV An unheard-of wonder appeared near Kiev. All the nobles and hetmans gathered to marvel at this wonder: the ends of the earth suddenly became visible far away. The Liman showed blue in the distance, and beyond the Liman spread the Black Sea. Experienced men recognized the Crimea, rising mountain-like from the sea, and the swampy Sivash. To the left could be seen the Galician land. 12
"And what is that?" the assembled folk inquired of the old people, pointing to the gray and white peaks showing far away in the sky and looking more like clouds.
"Those are the Carpathian Mountains!" said the old people. "There are some among them on which the snow never melts and the clouds perch and stay overnight."
Here a new marvel appeared: the clouds flew off of the highest mountain, and on its peak appeared a mounted man, in full knightly armor, with his eyes shut, and he could be seen as if he were standing up close to them.
Here, from among the folk marveling with fear, one leaped on his horse and, looking wildly around, as if trying to see whether anyone was pursuing him, hastily rode off as fast as his horse could go. It was the sorcerer. Why was he so frightened? Staring in fear at the wondrous knight, he had recognized his face as the same one that had appeared to him unbidden as he performed his incantations. He himself could not understand why everything in him became confused at this sight, and, fearfully looking back, he raced his horse on until evening overtook him and the stars peeped out. Here he turned toward home, perhaps to inquire of the unclean powers what this marvel was. He was just about to jump his horse over a narrow stream that branched out across his path, when the speeding horse suddenly stopped, turned its muzzle to him, and- oh, wonder!-laughed! Two rows of white teeth flashed terribly in the darkness. The hair on the sorcerer's head stood on end. He cried out wildly, wept frenziedly, and urged his horse straight on to Kiev. He fancied that everything on all sides rushed to catch him: around him the dark forest trees, as if alive, wagging their black beards and reaching out long branches, tried to strangle him; the stars seemed to run ahead of him, pointing the sinner out to everyone; the road itself, he fancied, raced after him. The desperate sorcerer flew to Kiev, to the holy places.
XV A hermit sat alone in his cave before a lamp, not taking his eyes from the holy book. It was already many years since he had shut himself away in his cave. He had already made himself a coffin out of boards in which he slept instead of a bed. The holy elder closed his book and began to pray… Suddenly a man of strange, terrible appearance rushed in. At first the holy hermit was astonished and recoiled on seeing this man. He was trembling all over like an aspen leaf; his eyes rolled wildly; a terrible fire poured fearfully from his eyes; his ugly face filled the soul with trembling.
"Father, pray! pray!" he cried desperately, "pray for a lost soul!" and he collapsed on the ground.
The holy hermit crossed himself, took out the book, opened it-and recoiled in horror, letting the book fall.
"No, unheard-of sinner, there is no mercy for you! Flee from here! I cannot pray for you!"
"No?" the sinner shouted like a madman.
"Look: the holy letters of the book are filled with blood. Never has there been such a sinner in the world!"
"You mock me, Father!"
"Go, cursed sinner! I do not mock you! Fear is coming over me. It is not good for a man to be with you!"
"No, no! you mock me, do not say… I see your mouth stretch: the two rows of your old teeth are showing white!…"
And, like one crazed, he rushed at the holy hermit and killed him.
Something groaned deeply, the groaning went across the field into the forest. From beyond the forest rose dry, bony arms with long claws; they shook and vanished.
And now he felt no fear, he felt nothing. Everything seemed somehow vague to him. There was a ringing in his ears and in his head, as from drunkenness; and everything before his eyes appeared covered with cobwebs. Leaping on his horse, he headed straight for Kanev, thinking to go from there through Cherkassy to the Tartars, right to the Crimea, himself not knowing why. He rode for one day, for another, but there was no Kanev. It was the right road; it should have been here long ago, but Kanev was nowhere to be seen. Church tops gleamed in the distance. But that was not Kanev, it was Shumsk. The sorcerer was astonished to see that he had gone in a completely different direction. He urged his horse back to Kiev, and a day later a city appeared-not Kiev but Galich, a city still further from Kiev than Shumsk, and not far now from the Hungarians. Not knowing what to do, he turned his horse back again, but again felt he was going ever further in the contrary direction. No man in the world could tell what was in the sorcerer's soul; and if anyone had looked into it and seen what went on there, he would not have slept the whole night long and would never have laughed again. It was not anger, or fear, or wicked vexation. There is no word in the world that could name it. He was burnt, scorched, he would have trampled the whole world under his horse's hooves, or taken the whole country from Kiev to Galich, its people and all, and drowned it in the Black Sea. But it was not from anger that he would have done so; no, he did not know why himself. He shuddered all over when just ahead of him the Carpathian Mountains appeared, and tall Krivan, its crown covered with a gray cloud as with a cap; and his horse raced on and was already roaming in the mountains. All at once the clouds cleared, and before him in terrible majesty appeared the rider… The sorcerer tries to stop, he pulls hard at the reins; the horse whinnies wildly, tossing its mane and racing toward the knight. Now the sorcerer fancies that everything in him is frozen, that the motionless rider stirs and all at once opens his eyes; he sees the sorcerer racing toward him and laughs. Like thunder the wild laughter spilled over the mountains and rang in the sorcerer's heart, shaking everything within it. He fancied someone strong got into him and went about inside him, hammering on his heart and nerves… so terribly did this laughter resound in him!