It is midnight in Ukraine,
I’ve closed my eyes but cannot sleep.
A shade has crept into my room;
some Hutzul spirit needs a friend
to fill his empty, haunted space.
A hint of something fills my heart;
a whispered song, a simple tune,
a hidden meaning just for me
by this poet lost, alone.
Bandura strings, lightly plucked
leave just a trace of melody,
and when dawn breaks, I’m still awake.
My Hutzul friend takes his leave.