They'll give you a basket
And throw at the bottom
A crust. You will chew it,
My poor little dove, 50
And start working again….'
"But, brothers, I did not
Spend much time in sleeping;
And when I was five
On the day of St. Simon,
I mounted a horse
With the help of my father,
And then was no longer
A child. And at six years
I carried my father 60
His breakfast already,
And tended the ducks,
And at night brought the cow home,
And next—took my rake,
And was off to the hayfields!
And so by degrees
I became a great worker,
And yet best of all
I loved singing and dancing;
The whole day I worked 70
In the fields, and at nightfall
Returned to the cottage
All covered with grime.
But what's the hot bath for?
And thanks to the bath
And boughs of the birch-tree,
And icy spring water,
Again I was clean
And refreshed, and was ready
To take out my spinning-wheel, 80
And with companions
To sing half the night.
"I never ran after
The youths, and the forward
I checked very sharply.
To those who were gentle
And shy, I would whisper:
'My cheeks will grow hot,
And sharp eyes has my mother;
Be wise, now, and leave me 90
Alone'—and they left me.
"No matter how clever
I was to avoid them,
The one came at last
I was destined to wed;
And he—to my bitter
Regret—was a stranger:
Young Phílip Korchágin,
A builder of ovens.
He came from St. Petersburg. 100
Oh, how my mother
Did weep: 'Like a fish
In the ocean, my daughter,
You'll plunge and be lost;
Like a nightingale, straying
Away from its nest,
We shall lose you, my daughter!
The walls of the stranger
Are not built of sugar,
Are not spread with honey, 110
Their dwellings are chilly
And garnished with hunger;
The cold winds will nip you,
The black rooks will scold you,
The savage dogs bite you,
The strangers despise you.'
I slept not all night…. 120
"Oh, youth, pray you, tell me,
Now what can you find
In the maiden to please you?
And where have you seen her?
Perhaps in the sledges
With merry young friends
Flying down from the mountain?
Then you were mistaken,
O son of your father,
It was but the frost 130
And the speed and the laughter
That brought the bright tints
To the cheeks of the maiden.
Perhaps at some feast
In the home of a neighbour
You saw her rejoicing
And clad in bright colours?
But then she was plump
From her rest in the winter;
Her rosy face bloomed 140
Like the scarlet-hued poppy;
But wait!—have you been
To the hut of her father
And seen her at work
Beating flax in the barn?
Ah, what shall I do?
I will take brother falcon
And send him to town:
'Fly to town, brother falcon,
And bring me some cloth 150
And six colours of worsted,
And tassels of blue.
I will make a fine curtain,
Embroider each corner
With Tsar and Tsaritsa,
With Moscow and Kiev,
And Constantinople,
And set the great sun
Shining bright in the middle,
And this I will hang 160
In the front of my window:
Perhaps you will see it,
And, struck by its beauty,
Will stand and admire it,
And will not remember
To seek for the maiden….'
"And so till the morning
I lay with such thoughts.
'Now, leave me, young fellow,'
I said to the youth 170
When he came in the evening;
'I will not be foolish
Enough to abandon
My freedom in order
To enter your service.
God sees me—I will not
Depart from my home!'
"'Do come,' said young Phílip,
'So far have I travelled
To fetch you. Don't fear me— 180
I will not ill-treat you.'
I begged him to leave me,
I wept and lamented;
But nevertheless
I was still a young maiden:
I did not forget
Sidelong glances to cast
At the youth who thus wooed me.
And Phílip was handsome,
Was rosy and lusty, 190
Was strong and broad-shouldered,
With fair curling hair,
With a voice low and tender….
Ah, well … I was won….
"'Come here, pretty fellow,
And stand up against me,
Look deep in my eyes—
They are clear eyes and truthful;
Look well at my rosy
Young face, and bethink you: 200
Will you not regret it,
Won't my heart be broken,
And shall I not weep
Day and night if I trust you
And go with you, leaving
My parents forever?'
"'Don't fear, little pigeon,
We shall not regret it,'
Said Phílip, but still
I was timid and doubtful. 210
'Do go,' murmured I, and he,
'When you come with me.'