Lines 1-5

"The Cossacks" unfolds across five vivid five-line stanzas, known as cinquains, composed in free verse, a liberating form unshackled by rigid rhyme or meter. The poem begins with a stark declaration about the ever-looming threat of danger for Jews, hinting at an imminent hostility lurking around every bend. The speaker ominously warns, "the Cossacks are always coming," conjuring the specter of the 19th-century mercenaries notorious for their brutal massacres of Russian Jews. This mindset, she posits, is not hers alone but resonates deeply within the Jewish psyche, steeped in fear and pessimism. Such a mindset convinces her that a mere blemish on her arm is a harbinger of cancer. Instead of embracing the new year's potential, she morosely tallies the year's losses, emphasizing themes of doom and demise. Pastan captures this backward reflection through an oxymoronic celebration of "counting / my annual dead."

Lines 6-10

The second stanza delves into poignant memories of the speaker's mother's last days. Faced with the inevitability of death, her mother engaged in lighthearted banter with visitors. Pastan sketches a scene of social discomfort—those who come to offer final farewells and solace find themselves ensnared in conversations about literature and past adventures. The speaker interprets her mother's demeanor as one of "serenity" and "manners," though she suspects these were merely a facade of tranquility. The speaker, attuned to her mother's true nature, discerns the difference, sensing a desperate search for security beneath the polite veneer.

Lines 11-15

The third stanza begins with the pivotal word "But," signaling a shift in the speaker's introspection. Here, she recalls another's encounter with their mortality. Directly addressing this individual, though the poem suggests their passing, the speaker refrains from naming them, referring only to F., the poem's dedicatee. What captivates her is F.'s ability to chart a future path despite knowing the absence of one. F. remains buoyant and sanguine, her optimism devoid of frantic urgency. The speaker's inability to "explain / your genuine smile in the face / of disaster" underscores their divergent perspectives. For F., the situation never descended into catastrophe, contrasting with the speaker's fixation on disaster. The stanza concludes with an unfinished inquiry, the conclusion of which unravels in the subsequent stanza, illustrating a thoughtful pause in her contemplation. She ends with "Was it denial," only to commence anew with "laced with acceptance?"

Lines 16-20

The fourth stanza delves further into the theme of social facades. The speaker ponders whether F.'s composed demeanor owes to her English roots, invoking the notion of English reserve. Pastan enriches this theme with a literary nod to Charlotte Brontë's Villette, where Lucy conceals fiery emotions beneath a composed exterior. Pastan juxtaposes the intensity of Lucy's hidden fervor against the drab neutrality of her outward guise. Similarly, the speaker muses whether F.'s inner tumult was veiled by her serene surface.

Lines 21-25

In the poem's closing stanza, a revelation emerges: F.'s serene demeanor was indeed authentic. The speaker confides to F., "I want to live the way you did," yearning for a path of genuine hope and peace amid life's uncertainties. She envisions F., in her final days, as one who, indifferent to impending famine, lavishly sets out a feast of abundance. Yet, the speaker's inherent nature resists such transformation. As she paints this sumptuous image, the haunting echo of "the Cossacks coming" disrupts her reverie. The poem concludes with "But listen: those are hoofbeats / on the frosty autumn air," where the tone sharply pivots once more. The hoofbeats, perhaps those of the dreaded Cossacks, underscore her inability to wholly embrace F.'s liberating fantasy; danger, whether real or imagined, perpetually shadows her steps.