Viburnum, viburnum, late berry

Lived two sisters Miroslava and Elena.
They had a cheerful character and a rare girlish beauty.
But it was not at a good hour that their youth bloom.
Enemy hordes ravaged all living things in their path. The land was burning, the native land was burning.
The black hard times did not pass by the sisters: the chopped mother fell, the father was pierced by an arrow, the Horde's younger brother was trampled by horses.
The sisters saw all this when they came from the forest.
From unbearable melancholy, the heart was caked with a wound and the sisters swore to take revenge on the bloody dog-heads for the people's torment,
for grief unheard of.
They say that more than one Tatar detachment found its death in thickets and impenetrable swamps, where brave girls took them.
Once again, they led the enemies into a swampy trap, but they themselves were hacked by strangers.
Drops of maiden blood that splashed from under the enemy scimitar were picked up by the wind, scattered through forests and valleys, along the banks of rivers of lakes ...
And where they fell, there grew viburnum bushes.
Since then, viburnum bushes have been growing either above the water, then under the forest, then above the ravine, or even at the grave, evoking melancholy, sadness, and memories.