Ukraine, a seed cucumber
They trample for ages,
Wipe out the kin,
And he, in cucumbers,
By the laws of the tribe,
Unceasingly, every way,
Fills the world.

They take her into bondage,
From grief she flees as a fugitive,
Under occupiers she grew used to pain,
She defends independence with shield and sword.

And now they wait for replenishment,
Argentina, Canada, and Taiwan.
The Russians wait,
Even as they kill her
Against her efforts to stand.