With the hostile camp in skirmish Our men once were changing shot,
Pranced the Delibash his charger 'Fore our ranks of Cossacks hot.
Trifle not with free-born Cossacks! Nor too o'er foolhardy be!
Thy mad mood thou wilt atone for-- On his pike he'll skewer thee!'Ware friend Cossack!
Or at full bound, Off thy head, at lightning
With his scimitar he'll sever From thy trunk!
He will indeed!
What confusion!
What a roaring! Halt! thou devil's pack, have care!
On the pike is lanced the horseman-- Headless stands the Cossack there!
