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KOTLYAREVSKY
A mighty eagle on a snowy height
Sat gazing all around with his keen eye,
When lo, he started upwards towards the sky
And on his splendid pinions took his flight.
His sweeping wing brushed off a clod of snow;
It fell and started other clods downhill;
They gathered force and strength and size until
An avalanche went roaring down below.
So Kotlyarevsky happily once spoke,
Began to sing in our Ukrainian tongue—
Though what he sang then seemed to be a joke,
Yet in it lay an earnest great and strong.
That spark did not die out amongst our folk,
But blazed and warmed us all ere long.