Vooru (locally, Vuuru) is a village in Tarvastu Parish, Viljandi County, Estonia. It is 34 km (21 miles) southeast of the town of Viljandi, 2 km (1 mile) south of the village of Suislepa, near the southern border of Valga County and the Õhne river. As of 2011, the population of Vooru was 65, a decrease from 101 in the 2000 census.
The ruins of the pre-Christian Vooru Castle hill fort are located in Vooru. The castle was built in the middle 6th-7th centuries AD and was in use until the 11th century. It was the largest stronghold of the native Livonian population in Viljandi County from that era. Archaeological excavations of the ruins in 1969-1970 reveal the stronghold was burned on at least thee occasions before being abandoned. The site is now on the National Register of Cultural Monuments.
The first recorded mention of Vooru (German: Worroküll) as a settlement was in 1583, where a manor house built by Baltic German nobility stood. A later manor house and outbuildings were built sometime in the 18th century. Baltic German writer August von Kotzebue lived at the manor briefly in 1800 following his arrest en route to Saint Petersburg from Tallinn (then, Revel) after being accused of being a Jacobin. von Kotzebue was deported to Siberia. However, he had written a comedy which flattered the vanity of Paul I of Russia and he was quickly released and presented with the Vooru estate from the crown lands of Livonia as compensation. von Kotzebue later wrote about this period in his life in the autobiographical Das merkwürdigste Jahr meines Lebens (The Strangest Year of My Life).
So we started in the cornfield
And I know we did not slack
We got everything in order
But we forgot to bring the bucket back
The foreman he went crazy
And ran around the field
Said we must be lazy
Had to be seen to be believed
Seen to be believed.
But it was a long way
From this highroad
It was a far away from here.
The farmer had a daughter
And she worked at the wishing well
Put one leg in the water
'til she found the mission bell
The old man went crazy
And ran to get his gun
We had a bad time explaining
We were just having drunken fun
Just having drunken fun.
But it was a long way
From this high road, Oh!
It was a long way from here
So we walked along this road
Just tellin' stories as we go
We just walk along.
Well the farmer had a daughter
And she did not speak a word
We used to kiss her in the orchard
Till one morning we were overheard
The old man he went crazy
Running around the field
Said we must be crazy
Had to be seen to be believed