Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia? Part 9

Come, treat me, you peasants!"

"Excuse us, your Lordship, Our wine is but simple, The drink of the peasants! 290 It wouldn't suit _you_!"

A bent, yellow-haired man Steals up to the peasants, A man from White Russia.

He yearns for the vodka.

"Oh, give me a taste!"

He implores, "I am happy!"

"But wait! You must tell us In what you are happy."

"In bread I am happy; 300 At home, in White Russia, The bread is of barley, All gritty and weedy.

At times, I can tell you, I've howled out aloud, Like a woman in labour, With pains in my stomach!

But now, by G.o.d's mercy, I work for Gubonine, And there they give rye-bread, 310 I'm happy in that."

A dark-looking peasant, With jaw turned and twisted, Which makes him look sideways, Says next, "I am happy.

A bear-hunter I am, And six of my comrades Were killed by old Mishka;[26]

On me G.o.d has mercy."

"Look round to the left side." 320 He tries to, but cannot, For all his grimaces!

"A bear knocked my jaw round, A savage young female."

"Go, look for another, And give her the left cheek, She'll soon put it straight!"

They laugh, but, however, They give him some vodka.

Some ragged old beggars 330 Come up to the peasants, Drawn near by the smell Of the froth on the vodka; They say they are happy.

"Why, right on his threshold The shopman will meet us!

We go to a house-door, From there they conduct us Right back to the gate!

When we begin singing 340 The housewife runs quickly And brings to the window A loaf and a knife.

And then we sing loudly, 'Oh, give us the whole loaf, It cannot be cut And it cannot be crumbled, For you it is quicker, For us it is better!'"

The peasants observe 350 That their vodka is wasted, The pail's nearly empty.

They say to the people, "Enough of your chatter, You, shabby and ragged, You, humpbacked and corny, Go, get you all home!"

"In your place, good strangers,"

The peasant, Fedocy, From "Swallow-Smoke" village, 360 Said, sitting beside them, "I'd ask ermil Girin.

If he will not suit you, If he is not happy, Then no one can help you."

"But who is this ermil, A n.o.ble--a prince?"

"No prince--not a n.o.ble, But simply a peasant."

"Well, tell us about him." 370

"I'll tell you; he rented The mill of an orphan, Until the Court settled To sell it at auction.

Then ermil, with others, Went into the sale-room.

The small buyers quickly Dropped out of the bidding; Till ermil alone, With a merchant, Alternikoff, 380 Kept up the fight.

The merchant outbid him, Each time by a farthing, Till ermil grew angry And added five roubles; The merchant a farthing And ermil a rouble.

The merchant gave in then, When suddenly something Unlooked for occurred: 390 The sellers demanded A third of the money Paid down on the spot; 'Twas one thousand roubles, And ermil had not brought So much money with him; 'Twas either his error, Or else they deceived him.

The merchant said gaily, 'The mill comes to me, then?' 400 'Not so,' replied ermil; He went to the sellers; 'Good sirs, will you wait Thirty minutes?' he asked.

"'But how will that help you?'

'I'll bring you the money.'

"'But where will you find it?

You're out of your senses!

It's thirty-five versts To the mill; in an hour now 410 The sales will be finished.'

"'You'll wait half an hour, sirs?'

'An hour, if you wish.'

Then ermil departed, The sellers exchanging Sly looks with the merchant, And grinning--the foxes!

But ermil went out And made haste to the market-place Crowded with people 420 ('Twas market-day, then), And he mounted a waggon, And there he stood crossing Himself, and low bowing In all four directions.

He cried to the people, 'Be silent a moment, I've something to ask you!'

The place became still And he told them the story: 430

"'Since long has the merchant Been wooing the mill, But I'm not such a dullard.

Five times have I been here To ask if there _would_ be A second day's bidding, They answered, 'There will.'

You know that the peasant Won't carry his money All over the by-ways 440 Without a good reason, So I have none with me; And look--now they tell me There's no second bidding And ask for the money!

The cunning ones tricked me And laughed--the base heathens!

And said to me sneering: 'But, what can you do In an hour? Where find money?' 450

"'They're crafty and strong, But the people are stronger!

The merchant is rich-- But the people are richer!

Hey! What is _his_ worth To _their_ treasury, think you?

Like fish in the ocean The wealth of the people; You'll draw it and draw it-- But not see its end! 460 Now, brother, G.o.d hears me, Come, give me this money!

Next Friday I'll pay you The very last farthing.

It's not that I care For the mill--it's the insult!

Whoever knows ermil, Whoever believes him, Will give what he can.'

"A miracle happened; 470 The coat of each peasant Flew up on the left As though blown by a wind!

The peasants are bringing Their money to ermil, Each gives what he can.

Though ermil's well lettered He writes nothing down; It's well he can count it So great is his hurry. 480 They gather his hat full Of all kinds of money, From farthings to bank-notes, The notes of the peasant All crumpled and torn.

He has the whole sum now, But still the good people Are bringing him more.

"'Here, take this, too, ermil, You'll pay it back later!' 490

"He bows to the people In all four directions, Gets down from the waggon, And pressing the hat Full of money against him, Runs back to the sale-room As fast as he can.

"The sellers are speechless And stare in amazement, The merchant turns green 500 As the money is counted And laid on the table.

"The sellers come round him All craftily praising His excellent bargain.

But ermil sees through them; He gives not a farthing, He speaks not a word.

"The whole town a.s.sembles At market next Friday, 510 When ermil is paying His debt to the people.

How can he remember To whom he must pay it?

No murmur arises, No sound of discussion, As each man tells quietly The sum to be paid him.

"And ermil himself said, That when it was finished 520 A rouble was lying With no one to claim it; And though till the evening He went, with purse open, Demanding the owner, It still was unclaimed.

The sun was just setting When ermil, the last one To go from the market, a.s.sembled the beggars 530 And gave them the rouble." ...