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  Act kindly towards us, And do as we ask you, 300   And we as the price Of your silence will give you   The hayfields which lie On the banks of the Volga.
  Think well of our offer, And let the posrédnik   Be sent for to witness And settle the matter.'
  "Then gathered the commune To argue and clamour; 310   The thought of the hayfields (In which we are sitting),   With promises boundless And plenty of vodka,   Decided the question:
The commune would wait   For the death of the Barin.
"Then came the posrédnik,   And laughing, he said: 'It's a capital notion! 320   The hayfields are fine, too, You lose nothing by it;   You just play the fool And the Lord will forgive you.
  You know, it's forbidden To no one in Russia   To bow and be silent.'
"But I was against it:   I said to the peasants, 'For you it is easy, 330   But how about me? Whatever may happen   The Elder must come   To accounts with the Barin, And how can I answer   His babyish questions?
And how can I do   His nonsensical bidding?'
  "'Just take off your hat And bow low, and say nothing, 340   And then you walk out And the thing's at an end.
  The old man is ill, He is weak and forgetful,   And nothing will stay In his head for an instant.'
  "Perhaps they were right; To deceive an old madman   Is not very hard.
But for my part, I don't want 350   To play at buffoon.
For how many years   Have I stood on the threshold And bowed to the Barin?   Enough for my pleasure!
I said, 'If the commune   Is pleased to be ruled By a crazy Pomyéshchick   To ease his last moments I don't disagree, 360   I have nothing against it;
But then, set me free   From my duties as Elder.'
"The whole matter nearly   Fell through at that moment, But then Klímka Lávin said,   'Let me be Elder, I'll please you on both sides,   The master and you.
The Lord will soon take him, 370   And then the fine hayfields Will come to the commune.
  I swear I'll establish Such order amongst you   You'll die of the fun!'
"The commune took long   To consider this offer:
A desperate fellow   Is Klímka the peasant, A drunkard, a rover, 380   And not very honest,   No lover of work, And acquainted with gipsies;
  A vagabond, knowing A lot about horses.
  A scoffer at those Who work hard, he will tell you:
  'At work you will never Get rich, my fine fellow;   You'll never get rich,— 390 But you're sure to get crippled!'
  But he, all the same, Is well up in his letters;   Has been to St. Petersburg. Yes, and to Moscow,   And once to Siberia, too, With the merchants.
  A pity it was That he ever returned!
  He's clever enough, 400 But he can't keep a farthing;   He's sharp—but he's always In some kind of trouble.
He's picked some fine words up   From out of his travels:   'Our Fatherland dear,' And 'The soul of great Russia,'   And 'Moscow, the mighty, Illustrious city!'
  'And I,' he will shout, 410 'Am a plain Russian peasant!'   And striking his forehead He'll swallow the vodka.
  A bottle at once He'll consume, like a mouthful.   He'll fall at your feet For a bottle of vodka.
  But if he has money He'll share with you, freely;   The first man he meets 420 May partake of his drink.
  He's clever at shouting And cheating and fooling,   At showing the best side Of goods which are rotten, At boasting and lying;
  And when he is caught He'll slip out through a cranny,   And throw you a jest, Or his favourite saying: 430
  'A crack in the jaw Will your honesty bring you!'
  "Well, after much thinking The commune decided   That I must remain The responsible Elder;
  But Klímka might act In my stead to the Barin   As though he were Elder.
Why, then, let him do it! 440   The right kind of Elder He is for his Barin,   They make a fine pair!
  Like putty his conscience; Like Meenin's[41] his beard,   So that looking upon him You'd think a sedater,   More dutiful peasant Could never be found.
  The heirs made his kaftan, 450 And he put it on,   And from Klímka the 'scapegrace' He suddenly changed   Into Klím, Son-of-Jacob,[42] Most worthy of Elders.
So that's how it is;—   And to our great misfortune The Barin is ordered   A carriage-drive daily.
Each day through the village 460   He drives in a carriage That's built upon springs.
  Then up you jump, quickly, And whip off your hat,   And, God knows for what reason, He'll jump down your throat,   He'll upbraid and abuse you; But you must keep silent.
  He watches a peasant At work in the fields, 470   And he swears we are lazy And lie-abed sluggards   (Though never worked peasant With half such a will   In the time of the Barin).
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41

Meenin—a famous Russian patriot in the beginning of the seventeenth century. He is always represented with an immense beard.

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42

It is a sign of respect to address a person by his own name and the name of his father.