Translation:Not for Grishka-Thief you've fallen, over-Polacked ...
Appearance
* * *
Not for Grishka-Thief you’ve fallen, over-Polacked
Not for Peter-Tsar you’ve grovelled, over-Germaned
Not so haughty, mother-Moscow, now? – ‘You call it.’
Are you weeping, Moscow-sweetheart, now? – ‘Assuréd.’
Where now doves of thine, my Moscow? – ‘I’ve no millet.’
But from golden field who took it? – ‘Raven spill it.’
Where now crosses light that shone? – ‘Stoop unslotted.’
Where thy sons are gone to, Mother? – ‘They are slaughtered.’