Unto Pole Skirgiel's part let the third hero start,
There the dwellings but poorly are furnish'd;
So choose ye there rather, and bring to your father,
Keen sabres and bucklers high-burnish'd.
But bring home, above all, Laskian {33} girls to our hall,
More sprightly than fawns in fine weather;
The hues of the morning their cheeks are adorning,
Their eyes are like stars of the ether.
Half a century ago, when my young blood did glow,
A wife from their region I bore me;
Death tore us asunder, yet ne'er I look yonder,
But memory straight brings her before me."
Now advis'd them he hath, so he blesseth their path,
And away they high-spirited rattle;
Grim winter comes chiding--of them there's no tiding;
Says Budrys: they've fallen in battle.
With an avalanche's might to the gate spurs a knight,
And beneath his wide mantle he's laden:
"Hast there Russian money--the roubles so bonny?"
"No, no! I've a Laskian maiden."
Like an avalanche in might riding comes an arm'd knight,
And beneath his wide mantle he's laden:
"From the German, brave fellow, bring'st amber so yellow?"
"No, no! here's a Laskian maiden."
Like an avalanche of snow the third up rideth now,
Nor has he, as it seemeth, been idle;
As the booty he showeth, old Budrys hallooeth
To bid guests for the brave triple bridal.
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