Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia? Part 21

"You give us your promise To open your heart to us?"

"I will hide nothing." 490

Matrona Korchagin Now enters her cottage, And while she is working Within it, the peasants Discover a very Nice spot just behind it, And sit themselves down.

There's a barn close beside them And two immense haystacks, A flax-field around them; 500 And lying just near them A fine plot of turnips, And spreading above them A wonderful oak-tree, A king among oaks.

They're sitting beneath it, And now they're producing The magic white napkin: "Heh, napkin enchanted, Give food to the peasants!" 510 The napkin unfolds, Two hands have come floating From no one sees where, Place a pailful of vodka, A large pile of bread On the magic white napkin, And dwindle away.

The two brothers Goobin Are chuckling together, For they have just pilfered 520 A very big horse-radish Out of the garden-- It's really a monster!

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 ta.s.sels 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.

G.o.d 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 l.u.s.ty, 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 chast.i.ty, 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?"