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Nikolay Nekrasov - Who is happy in Russia?
Work rating: Medium

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The skies are dark blue now,
  The bright stars are twinkling,
The moon has arisen
  And sails high above them;
The woman Matrona
  Comes out of the cottage
To tell them her tale. 530
CHAPTER I

THE WEDDING

"My girlhood was happy,
  For we were a thrifty
Arid diligent household;
  And I, the young maiden,
With Father and Mother
  Knew nothing but joy.
My father got up
  And went out before sunrise,
He woke me with kisses
  And tender caresses; 10
My brother, while dressing,
  Would sing little verses:
'Get up, little Sister,
  Get up, little Sister,
In no little beds now
Are people delaying,
In all little churches
The peasants are praying,
Get up, now, get up,
It is time, little Sister. 20
The shepherd has gone
To the field with the sheep,
And no little maidens
Are lying asleep,
They've gone to pick raspberries,
Merrily singing.
The sound of the axe
In the forest is ringing.'
"And then my dear mother,
  When she had done scouring 30
The pots and the pans,
  When the hut was put tidy,
The bread in the oven,
  Would steal to my bedside,
And cover me softly
  And whisper to me:
"'Sleep on, little dove,
  Gather strength-you will need it-
You will not stay always
  With Father and Mother, 40
And when you will leave them
  To live among strangers
Not long will you sleep.
  You'll slave till past midnight,
And rise before daybreak;
  You'll always be weary.
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 PhIlip Korchagin,
  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.'
"But Father sat talking
  And drinking till late
With the 'swat.'[45] I was frightened.
  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 PhIlip,
'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 PhIlip 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 PhIlip, but still
  I was timid and doubtful. 210
'Do go,' murmured I, and he,
  'When you come with me.'
Of course I was fairer
  And sweeter and dearer
Than any that lived,
  And his arms were about me...
Then all of a sudden
  I made a sharp effort
To wrench myself free. 219
  'How now? What's the matter?
You're strong, little pigeon!'
  Said PhIlip astonished,
But still held me tight.
  'Ah, PhIlip, if you had
Not held me so firmly
  You would not have won me;
I did it to try you,
  To measure your strength;
You were strong, and it pleased me.'
We must have been happy 230
  In those fleeting moments
When softly we whispered
  And argued together;
I think that we never
  Were happy again...
"How well I remember...
  The night was like this night,
Was starlit and silent ..
  Was dreamy and tender
Like this..." 240
  And the woman,
Matrona, sighed deeply,
  And softly began-
Leaning back on the haystack-
  To sing to herself
With her thoughts in the past:
  "'Tell me, young merchant, pray,
  Why do you love me so-
  Poor peasant's daughter?
  I am not clad in gold, 250
  I am not hung with pearls,
  Not decked with silver.'
  "'Silver your chastity,
  Golden your beauty shines,
  O my beloved,
  White pearls are falling now
  Out of your weeping eyes,
  Falling like tear-drops.'
"My father gave orders
  To bring forth the wine-cups, 260
To set them all out
  On the solid oak table.
My dear mother blessed me:
  'Go, serve them, my daughter,
Bow low to the strangers.'
  I bowed for the first time,
My knees shook and trembled;
  I bowed for the second-
My face had turned white;
  And then for the third time 270
I bowed, and forever
  The freedom of girlhood
Rolled down from my head..."
"Ah, that means a wedding,"
  Cry both brothers Goobin,
"Let's drink to the health
  Of the happy young pair!"
"Well said! We'll begin
  With the bride," say the others.
"Will you drink some vodka, 280
  Matrona Korchagin?"
"An old woman, brothers,
  And not drink some vodka?"
CHAPTER II

A SONG

Stand before your judge-
And your legs will quake!
Stand before the priest
On your wedding-day,-
How your head will ache!
How your head will ache!
You will call to mind
Songs of long ago,
Songs of gloom and woe:
Telling how the guests 10
Crowd into the yard,
Run to see the bride
Whom the husband brings
Homeward at his side.
How his parents both
Fling themselves on her;
How his brothers soon
Call her "wasteful one";
How his sisters next
Call her "giddy one"; 20
How his father growls,
"Greedy little bear!"
How his mother snarls,
"Cannibal!" at her.
She is "slovenly"
And "disorderly,"
She's a "wicked one"!
"All that's in the song
  Happened now to me.
Do you know the song? 30
  Have you heard it sung?"
"Yes, we know it well;
Gossip, you begin,
  We will all join in."
Matrona

So sleepy, so weary
I am, and my heavy head
Clings to the pillow.
But out in the passage
My Father-in-law
Begins stamping and swearing. 40
Peasants in Chorus

  Stamping and swearing!
Stamping and swearing!
  He won't let the poor woman
Rest for a moment.
  Up, up, up, lazy-head!
  Up, up, up, lie-abed!
    Lazy-head!
    Lie-abed!
    Slut!
Matrona

So sleepy, so weary 50
I am, and my heavy head
Clings to the pillow;
But out in the passage
My Mother-in-law
Begins scolding and nagging.
Peasants in Chorus

  Scolding and nagging!
Scolding and nagging!
  She won't let the poor woman
Rest for a moment.
  Up, up, up, lazy-head! 60
  Up, up, up, lie-abed!
    Lazy-head!
    Lie-abed!
    Slut!
"A quarrelsome household
  It was-that of Philip's
To which I belonged now;
  And I from my girlhood
Stepped straight into Hell.
  My husband departed 70
To work in the city,
  And leaving, advised me
To work and be silent,
  To yield and be patient:
'Don't splash the red iron
  With cold water-it hisses!'
With father and mother
  And sisters-in-law he
Now left me alone;
  Not a soul was among them 80
To love or to shield me,
  But many to scold.
One sister-in-law-
  It was Martha, the eldest,-
Soon set me to work
  Like a slave for her pleasure.
And Father-in-law too
  One had to look after,
Or else all his clothes
  To redeem from the tavern. 90
In all that one did
  There was need to be careful,
Or Mother-in-law's
  Superstitions were troubled
(One never could please her).
Well, some superstitions
  Of course may be right;
But they're most of them evil.
  And one day it happened
That Mother-in-law 100
  Murmured low to her husband
That corn which is stolen
  Grows faster and better.
So Father-in-law
  Stole away after midnight...
It chanced he was caught,
  And at daybreak next morning
Brought back and flung down
  Like a log in the stable.
  "But I acted always 110
As PhIlip had told me:
  I worked, with the anger
Hid deep in my bosom,
  And never a murmur
Allowed to escape me.
  And then with the winter
Came PhIlip, and brought me
  A pretty silk scarf;
And one feast-day he took me
  To drive in the sledges; 120
And quickly my sorrows
  Were lost and forgotten:
I sang as in old days
  At home, with my father.
For I and my husband
  Were both of an age,
And were happy together
  When only they left us
Alone, but remember
  A husband like PhIlip 130
Not often is found."
"Do you mean to say
  That he never once beat you?"
Matrona was plainly
  Confused by the question;
 "Once, only, he beat me,"
  She said, very low.
"And why?" asked the peasants.

"Well, you know yourselves, friends,
  How quarrels arise 140
In the homes of the peasants.
  A young married sister
Of PhIlip's one day
  Came to visit her parents.
She found she had holes
  In her boots, and it vexed her.
Then PhIlip said, 'Wife,
  Fetch some boots for my sister.'
And I did not answer
  At once; I was lifting 150
A large wooden tub,
  So, of course, couldn't speak.
But PhIlip was angry
  With me, and he waited
Until I had hoisted
  The tub to the oven,
Then struck me a blow
With his fist, on my temple.
"'We're glad that you came,
  But you see that you'd better 160
Keep out of the way,'
  Said the other young sister
To her that was married.
"Again Philip struck me!

 "'It's long since I've seen you,
  My dearly-loved daughter,
But could I have known
  How the baggage would treat you!'..
Whined Mother-in-law.
"And again PhIlip struck me! 170

  "Well, that is the story.
'Tis surely not fitting
  For wives to sit counting
The blows of their husbands,
  But then I had promised
To keep nothing back."
  "Ah, well, with these women-
The poisonous serpents!-
  A corpse would awaken
And snatch up a horsewhip," 180
  The peasants say, smiling.
Matrona said nothing.
  The peasants, in order
To keep the occasion
  In manner befitting,
Are filling the glasses;
  And now they are singing
In voices of thunder
  A rollicking chorus,
Of husbands' relations, 190
   And wielding the knout.
.. ..

  "Cruel hated husband,
Hark! he is coming!
  Holding the knout..."
Chorus

  "Hear the lash whistle!
See the blood spurt!
  Ai, leli, leli!
See the blood spurt!"
.. ..

"Run to his father!
  Bowing before him- 200
'Save me!' I beg him;
  'Stop my fierce husband-
Venomous serpent!'
  Father-in-law says,
  'Beat her more soundly!
  Draw the blood freely!'"
Chorus

"Hear the lash whistle!
  See the blood spurt!
Ai, leli, leli!
  See the blood spurt!" 210
.. ..

"Quick-to his mother!
  Bowing before her-
'Save me!' I beg her;
  'Stop my cruel husband!
Venomous serpent!'
  Mother-in-law says,
  'Beat her more soundly,
  Draw the blood freely!'"
Chorus

"Hear the lash whistle!
  See the blood spurt! 220
Ai, leli, leli!
  See the blood spurt!"
* * * * *

"On Lady-day PhIlip
  Went back to the city;
A little while later
  Our baby was born.
Like a bright-coloured picture
  Was he-little Djoma;
The sunbeams had given
  Their radiance to him, 230
The pure snow its whiteness;
  The poppies had painted
His lips; by the sable
  His brow had been pencilled;
The falcon had fashioned
  His eyes, and had lent them
Their wonderful brightness.
  At sight of his first
Angel smile, all the anger
  And bitterness nursed 240
In my bosom was melted;
  It vanished away
Like the snow on the meadows
  At sight of the smiling
Spring sun. And not longer
  I worried and fretted;
I worked, and in silence
  I let them upbraid.
But soon after that
  A misfortune befell me: 250
The manager by
  The Pomyeshchick appointed,
Called Sitnikov, hotly
  Began to pursue me.
'My lovely Tsaritsa!
  'My rosy-ripe berry!'
Said he; and I answered,
  'Be off, shameless rascal!
Remember, the berry
  Is not in your forest!' 260
I stayed from the field-work,
  And hid in the cottage;
He very soon found me.
  I hid in the corn-loft,
But Mother-in-law
  Dragged me out to the courtyard;
'Now don't play with fire, girl!'
  She said. I besought her
To send him away,
  But she answered me roughly, 270
'And do you want PhIlip
  To serve as a soldier?'
I ran to Savyeli,
  The grandfather, begging
His aid and advice.
  "I haven't yet told you
A word of Savyeli,
  The only one living
Of PhIlip's relations
  Who pitied and loved me. 280
Say, friends, shall I tell you
  About him as well?"
"Yes, tell us his tale,
And we'll each throw a couple
Of sheaves in to-morrow,
  Above what we promised."
"Well, well," says Matrona,
  "And 'twould be a pity
To give old Savyeli
No place in the story; 290
For he was a happy one,
  Too-the old man..."
CHAPTER III

SAVYeLI

"A mane grey and bushy
  Which covered his shoulders,
A huge grizzled beard
  Which had not seen the scissors
For twenty odd years,
  Made Savyeli resemble
A shaggy old bear,
  Especially when he
Came out of the forest,
  So broad and bent double. 10
The grandfather's shoulders
  Were bowed very low,
And at first I was frightened
  Whenever he entered
The tiny low cottage:
  I thought that were he
To stand straight of a sudden
  He'd knock a great hole
With his head in the ceiling.
  But Grandfather could not 20
Stand straight, and they told me
That he was a hundred.
  He lived all alone
In his own little cottage,
  And never permitted
The others to enter;
  He couldn't abide them.
Of course they were angry
  And often abused him.
His own son would shout at him, 30
  'Branded one! Convict!'
But this did not anger
  Savyeli, he only
Would go to his cottage
  Without making answer,
And, crossing himself,
  Begin reading the scriptures;
Then suddenly cry
  In a voice loud and joyful,
'Though branded-no slave!' 40
  When too much they annoyed him,
He sometimes would say to them:
  'Look, the swat's[46] coming!'
The unmarried daughter
  Would fly to the window;
Instead of the swat there
  A beggar she'd find!
And one day he silvered
  A common brass farthing,
And left it to lie 50
  On the floor; and then straightway
Did Father-in-law run
  In joy to the tavern,-
He came back, not tipsy,
  But beaten half-dead!
At supper that night
  We were all very silent,
And Father-in-law had
  A cut on his eyebrow,
But Grandfather's face 60
  Wore a smile like a rainbow!
"Savyeli would gather
  The berries and mushrooms
From spring till late autumn,
  And snare the wild rabbits;
Throughout the long winter
He lay on the oven
  And talked to himself.
He had favourite sayings:
He used to lie thinking 70
  For whole hours together,
And once in an hour
  You would hear him exclaiming:
"'Destroyed .. and subjected!'
  Or, 'Ai, you toy heroes!
You're fit but for battles
  With old men and women!'
"'Be patient .. and perish,
Impatient .. and perish!'
"'Eh, you Russian peasant, 80
  You giant, you strong man,
The whole of your lifetime
  You're flogged, yet you dare not
Take refuge in death,
  For Hell's torments await you!'
"'At last the Korojins[47]
  Awoke, and they paid him,
They paid him, they paid him,
  They paid the whole debt!'
And many such sayings 90
  He had,-I forget them.
When Father-in-law grew
  Too noisy I always
Would run to Savyeli,
  And we two, together,
Would fasten the door.
  Then I began working,
While Djomushka climbed
  To the grandfather's shoulder,
And sat there, and looked 100
  Like a bright little apple
That hung on a hoary
  Old tree. Once I asked him:
"'And why do they call you
  A convict, Savyeli?'
"'I was once a convict,'
  Said he.
"'You, Savyeli!'

"'Yes I, little Grandchild,
  Yes, I have been branded. 110
I buried a German
  Alive-Christian Vogel.'
"'You're joking, Savyeli!'

  "'Oh no, I'm not joking.
I mean it,' he said,
  And he told me the story.
"'The peasants in old days
  Were serfs as they now are,
But our race had, somehow,
  Not seen its Pomyeshchick; 120
No manager knew we,
  No pert German agent.
And barschin we gave not,
  And taxes we paid not
Except when it pleased us,-
  Perhaps once in three years
Our taxes we'd pay.'
"'But why, little Grandad?'

  "'The times were so blessed,-
And folk had a saying 130
  That our little village
Was sought by the devil
  For more than three years,
But he never could find it.
  Great forests a thousand
Years old lay about us;
And treacherous marshes
  And bogs spread around us;
No horseman and few men
  On foot ever reached us. 140
It happened that once
  By some chance, our Pomyeshchick,
Shalashnikov, wanted
  To pay us a visit.
High placed in the army
  Was he; and he started
With soldiers to find us.
  They soon got bewildered
And lost in the forest,
  And had to turn back; 150
Why, the Zemsky policeman
  Would only come once
In a year! They were good times!
  In these days the Barin
Lives under your window;
  The roadways go spreading
Around, like white napkins-
  The devil destroy them!
We only were troubled
  By bears, and the bears too 160
Were easily managed.
  Why, I was a worse foe
By far than old Mishka,
  When armed with a dagger
And bear-spear. I wandered
  In wild, secret woodpaths,
And shouted, ''My forest!''
  And once, only once,
I was frightened by something:
I stepped on a huge 170
  Female bear that was lying
Asleep in her den
  In the heart of the forest.
She flung herself at me,
  And straight on my bear-spear
Was fixed. Like a fowl
  On the spit she hung twisting
An hour before death.
  It was then that my spine snapped.
It often was painful 180
  When I was a young man;
But now I am old,
  It is fixed and bent double.
Now, do I not look like
A hook, little Grandchild?'
"'But finish the story.
  You lived and were not much
Afflicted. What further?'
"'At last our Pomyeshchick
  Invented a new game: 190
He sent us an order,
  ''Appear!'' We appeared not.
Instead, we lay low
  In our dens, hardly breathing.
A terrible drought
  Had descended that summer,
The bogs were all dry;
  So he sent a policeman,
Who managed to reach us,
  To gather our taxes, 200
In honey and fish;
  A second time came he,
We gave him some bear-skins;
  And when for the third time
He came, we gave nothing,-
  We said we had nothing.
We put on our laputs,
  We put our old caps on,
Our oldest old coats,
  And we went to Korojin 210
(For there was our master now,
  Stationed with soldiers).
''Your taxes!'' ''We have none,
  We cannot pay taxes,
The corn has not grown,
  And the fish have escaped us.''
''Your taxes!'' ''We have none.''
  He waited no longer;
''Hey! Give them the first round!''
  He said, and they flogged us. 220
"'Our pockets were not
  Very easily opened;
Shalashnikov, though, was
  A master at flogging.
Our tongues became parched,
  And our brains were set whirling,
And still he continued.
  He flogged not with birch-rods,
With whips or with sticks,
  But with knouts made for giants. 230
At last we could stand it
  No longer; we shouted,
''Enough! Let us breathe!''
  We unwound our foot-rags
And took out our money,
  And brought to the Barin
A ragged old bonnet
  With roubles half filled.
"'The Barin grew calm,
  He was pleased with the money; 240
He gave us a glass each
  Of strong, bitter brandy,
And drank some himself
  With the vanquished Korojins,
And gaily clinked glasses.
  ''It's well that you yielded,''
Said he, ''For I swear
  I was fully decided
To strip off the last shred
  Of skins from your bodies 250
And use it for making
  A drum for my soldiers!
Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha!''
  (He was pleased with the notion.)
''A fine drum indeed!''
  "'In silence we left;
But two stalwart old peasants
  Were chuckling together;
They'd two hundred roubles
  In notes, the old rascals! 260
Safe hidden away
  In the end of their coat-tails.
They both had been yelling,
  ''We're beggars! We're beggars!''
So carried them home.
  ''Well, well, you may cackle!''
  I thought to myself,
''But the next time, be certain,
  You won't laugh at me!''
The others were also 270
  Ashamed of their weakness,
And so by the ikons
  We swore all together
  That next time we rather
Would die of the beating
  Than feebly give way.
It seems the Pomyeshchick
  Had taken a fancy
At once to our roubles,
  Because after that 280
Every year we were summoned
  To go to Korojin,
We went, and were flogged.
  "'Shalashnikov flogged like
A prince, but be certain
The treasures he thrashed from
  The doughty Korojins
Were not of much weight.
  The weak yielded soon,
But the strong stood like iron 290
  For the commune. I also
Bore up, and I thought:
  ''Though never so stoutly
You flog us, you dog's son,
  You won't drag the whole soul
From out of the peasant;
  Some trace will be left.''
"'When the Barin was sated
  We went from the town,
But we stopped on the outskirts 300
  To share what was over.
And plenty there was, too!
  Shalashnikov, heh,
You're a fool! It was our turn
  To laugh at the Barin;
Ah, they were proud peasants-
  The plucky Korojins!
But nowadays show them
  The tail of a knout,
And they'll fly to the Barin, 310
  And beg him to take
The last coin from their pockets.
  Well, that's why we all lived
Like merchants in those days.
  One summer came tidings
To us that our Barin
  Now owned us no longer,
That he had, at Varna,
  Been killed. We weren't sorry,
But somehow we thought then: 320
  ''The peasants' good fortune
Has come to an end!''
  The heir made a new move:
He sent us a German.[48]
  Through vast, savage forests,
Through sly sucking bogs
  And on foot came the German,
As bare as a finger.
  "'As melting as butter
At first was the German: 330
  ''Just give what you can, then,''
He'd say to the peasants.
"'''We've nothing to give!''

"'''I'll explain to the Barin.''

"'''Explain,'' we replied,
  And were troubled no more.
It seemed he was going
  To live in the village;
He soon settled down.
  On the banks of the river, 340
For hour after hour
  He sat peacefully fishing,
And striking his nose
  Or his cheek or his forehead.
We laughed: ''You don't like
  The Korojin mosquitoes?''
He'd boat near the bankside
  And shout with enjoyment,
Like one in the bath-house
  Who's got to the roof.[49] 350
  "'With youths and young maidens
He strolled in the forest
  (They were not for nothing
Those strolls in the forest!)-
  ''Well, if you can't pay
You should work, little peasants.''
"'''What work should we do?''

  "'''You should dig some deep ditches
To drain off the bog-lands.''
  We dug some deep ditches. 360
"'''And now trim the forest.''

  "'''Well, well, trim the forest...''
We hacked and we hewed
  As the German directed,
And when we look round
  There's a road through the forest!
"'The German went driving
To town with three horses;
Look! now he is coming
  With boxes and bedding, 370
And God knows wherefrom
  Has this bare-footed German
Raised wife and small children!
  And now he's established
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