Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia?

I said, 'I am guilty, 210
  My God—not my children!'
"It seems God was angry
  And punished me for it
Through my little son;

  My Father-in-law
To the commune had offered
  My little Fedótka
As help to the shepherd
  When he was turned eight….

One night I was waiting 220
  To give him his supper;
The cattle already
  Were home, but he came not.
I went through the village
  And saw that the people
Were gathered together
  And talking of something.

I listened, then elbowed
  My way through the people;
Fedótka was set 230
  In their midst, pale and trembling,
The Elder was gripping
  His ear. 'What has happened?
And why do you hold him?'

  I said to the Elder.
"'I'm going to beat him,—
  He threw a young lamb
To the wolf,' he replied.

  "I snatched my Fedótka
Away from their clutches; 240
  And somehow the Elder
Fell down on the ground!

  "The story was strange:
It appears that the shepherd
  Went home for awhile,
Leaving little Fedótka
  In charge of the flock.

'I was sitting,' he told me,
  'Alone on the hillside,
When all of a sudden 250
  A wolf ran close by me
And picked Masha's lamb up.

  I threw myself at her,
I whistled and shouted,
  I cracked with my whip,
Blew my horn for Valétka,
And then I gave chase.

  I run fast, little Mother,
But still I could never
  Have followed the robber 260
If not for the traces
  She left; because, Mother,
Her breasts hung so low
  (She was suckling her children)
They dragged on the earth
  And left two tracks of blood.

But further the grey one
  Went slower and slower;

And then she looked back
  And she saw I was coming. 270
At last she sat down.

  With my whip then I lashed her;
''Come, give me the lamb,
  You grey devil!'' She crouched,
But would not give it up.

  I said—''I must save it
Although she should kill me.''

  I threw myself on her
And snatched it away,
  But she did not attack me. 280

The lamb was quite dead,
  She herself was scarce living.

She gnashed with her teeth
  And her breathing was heavy;
And two streams of blood ran
From under her body.

  Her ribs could be counted,
Her head was hung down,
  But her eyes, little Mother,
Looked straight into mine … 290

  Then she groaned of a sudden,
She groaned, and it sounded
  As if she were crying.
I threw her the lamb….'

  "Well, that was the story.
And foolish Fedótka
  Ran back to the village
And told them about it.

  And they, in their anger,
Were going to beat him 300
  When I came upon them.

The Elder, because
  Of his fall, was indignant,
He shouted—'How dare you!
  Do you want a beating
Yourself?' And the woman
  Whose lamb had been stolen
Cried, 'Whip the lad soundly,
  'Twill teach him a lesson!'

Fedótka she pulled from 310
  My arms, and he trembled,
He shook like a leaf.

  "Then the horns of the huntsmen
Were heard,—the Pomyéshchick
  Returning from hunting.

I ran to him, crying,
  'Oh, save us! Protect us!'
"'What's wrong? Call the Elder!'

  And then, in an instant,
  The matter is settled: 320

'The shepherd is tiny—
  His youth and his folly
May well be forgiven.
  The woman's presumption
You'll punish severely!'

  "'Oh, Barin, God bless you!'
I danced with delight!
  'Fedótka is safe now!
Run home, quick, Fedótka.'

  "'Your will shall be done, sir,' 330
The Elder said, bowing;
  'Now, woman, prepare;
You can dance later on!'

  "A gossip then whispered,
'Fall down at the feet
  Of the Elder—beg mercy!'
"'Fedótka—go home!'
  "Then I kissed him, and told him:

'Remember, Fedótka,
  That I shall be angry 340
If once you look backwards.
  Run home!'

    "Well, my brothers,
To leave out a word
  Of the song is to spoil it,—
I lay on the ground…."