The wind in anger howls and raves,

Down to the ground it bends the willows,

And mountain-high lifts up the waves.

The pale-faced moon picked out this moment

To peek out from behind a cloud,

Like a canoe upon the ocean

It first tips up, and then dips down.

The cocks don't crow to wake the morning,

There's not as yet a sound of man,

The owls in glades call out their warnings,

And ash trees creak and creak again.

Taras Shevchenko, poem "The Mighty Dnieper"

Translated by John Weir

The wind in anger howls and raves,

Down to the ground it bends the willows,

And mountain-high lifts up the waves.

The pale-faced moon picked out this moment

To peek out from behind a cloud,

Like a canoe upon the ocean

It first tips up, and then dips down.

The cocks don't crow to wake the morning,

There's not as yet a sound of man,

The owls in glades call out their warnings,

And ash trees creak and creak again.

Taras Shevchenko, poem "The Mighty Dnieper",

Translated by John Weir