Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia? Part 31

I know not what followed (The Mother of G.o.d Must have come to my aid), It seems that I fell At the feet of the lady, And cried, 'Oh, protect us!

They try to deceive us!

My husband--the only 240 Support of my children-- They've taken away-- Oh, they've acted unjustly!'...

"'Who are you, my pigeon?'

"My answer I know not, Or whether I gave one; A sudden sharp pang tore My body in twain."

"I opened my eyes In a beautiful chamber, 250 In bed I was laid 'Neath a canopy, brothers, And near me was sitting A nurse, in a head-dress All streaming with ribbons.

She's nursing a baby.

'Who's is it?' I ask her.

"'It's yours, little Mother.'

I kiss my sweet child.

It seems, when I fell 260 At the feet of the lady, I wept so and raved so, Already so weakened By grief and exhaustion, That there, without warning, My labour had seized me.

I bless the sweet lady, Elyen Alexandrovna, Only a mother Could bless her as I do. 270 She christened my baby, Lidorushka called him."

"And what of your husband?"

"They sent to the village And started enquiries, And soon he was righted.

Elyen Alexandrovna Brought him herself To my side. She was tender And clever and lovely, 280 And healthy, but childless, For G.o.d would not grant her A child. While I stayed there My baby was never Away from her bosom.

She tended and nursed him Herself, like a mother.

The spring had set in And the birch trees were budding, Before she would let us 290 Set out to go home.

"Oh, how fair and bright In G.o.d's world to-day!

Glad my heart and gay!

"Homewards lies our way, Near the wood we pause, See, the meadows green, Hark! the waters play.

Rivulet so pure, Little child of Spring, 300 How you leap and sing, Rippling in the leaves!

High the little lark Soars above our heads, Carols blissfully!

Let us stand and gaze; Soon our eyes will meet, I will laugh to thee, Thou wilt smile at me, Wee Lidorushka! 310

"Look, a beggar comes, Trembling, weak, old man, Give him what we can.

'Do not pray for us,'

Let us to him say, 'Father, you must pray For Elyenushka, For the lady fair, Alexandrovna!'

"Look, the church of G.o.d! 320 Sign the cross we twain Time and time again....

'Grant, O blessed Lord, Thy most fair reward To the gentle heart Of Elyenushka, Alexandrovna!'

"Green the forest grows, Green the pretty fields, In each dip and dell 330 Bright a mirror gleams.

Oh, how fair it is In G.o.d's world to-day, Glad my heart and gay!

Like the snowy swan O'er the lake I sail, O'er the waving steppes Speeding like the quail.

"Here we are at home.

Through the door I fly 340 Like the pigeon grey; Low the family Bow at sight of me, Nearly to the ground, Pardon they beseech For the way in which They have treated me.

'Sit you down,' I say, 'Do not bow to me.

Listen to my words: 350 You must bow to one Better far than I, Stronger far than I, Sing your praise to her.'

"'Sing to whom,' you say?

'To Elyenushka, To the fairest soul G.o.d has sent on earth: Alexandrovna!'"

CHAPTER VIII

THE WOMAN'S LEGEND

Matrona is silent.

You see that the peasants Have seized the occasion-- They are not forgetting To drink to the health Of the beautiful lady!

But noticing soon That Matrona is silent, In file they approach her.

"What more will you tell us?" 10

"What more?" says Matrona, "My fame as the 'lucky one'

Spread through the volost, Since then they have called me 'The Governor's Lady.'

You ask me, what further?

I managed the household, And brought up my children.

You ask, was I happy?

Well, that you can answer 20 Yourselves. And my children?

Five sons! But the peasant's Misfortunes are endless: They've robbed me of one."

She lowers her voice, And her lashes are trembling, But turning her head She endeavours to hide it.

The peasants are rather Confused, but they linger: 30 "Well, neighbour," they say, "Will you tell us no more?"

"There's one thing: You're foolish To seek among women For happiness, brothers."

"That's all?"

"I can tell you That twice we were swallowed By fire, and that three times The plague fell upon us; 40 But such things are common To all of us peasants.

Like cattle we toiled, My steps were as easy As those of a horse In the plough. But my troubles Were not very startling: No mountains have moved From their places to crush me; And G.o.d did not strike me 50 With arrows of thunder.

The storm in my soul Has been silent, unnoticed, So how can I paint it To you? O'er the Mother Insulted and outraged, The blood of her first-born As o'er a crushed worm Has been poured; and unanswered The deadly offences 60 That many have dealt her; The knout has been raised Unopposed o'er her body.

But one thing I never Have suffered: I told you That Sitnikov died, That the last, irreparable Shame had been spared me.

You ask me for happiness?

Brothers, you mock me! 70 Go, ask the official, The Minister mighty, The Tsar--Little Father, But never a woman!

G.o.d knows--among women Your search will be endless, Will lead to your graves.

"A pious old woman Once asked us for shelter; The whole of her lifetime 80 The Flesh she had conquered By penance and fasting; She'd bathed in the Jordan, And prayed at the tomb Of Christ Jesus. She told us The keys to the welfare And freedom of women Have long been mislaid-- G.o.d Himself has mislaid them.

And hermits, chaste women, 90 And monks of great learning, Have sought them all over The world, but not found them.

They're lost, and 'tis thought By a fish they've been swallowed.

G.o.d's knights have been seeking In towns and in deserts, Weak, starving, and cold, Hung with torturing fetters.

They've asked of the seers, 100 The stars they have counted To learn;--but no keys!

Through the world they have journeyed; In underground caverns, In mountains, they've sought them.

At last they discovered Some keys. They were precious, But only--not ours.

Yet the warriors triumphed: They fitted the lock 110 On the fetters of serfdom!

A sigh from all over The world rose to Heaven, A breath of relief, Oh, so deep and so joyful!

Our keys were still missing....

Great champions, though, Till to-day are still searching, Deep down in the bed Of the ocean they wander, 120 They fly to the skies, In the clouds they are seeking, But never the keys.