Nikolai Nekrasov - Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia?

'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 Phílip,
'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 Phílip 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 Phílip, 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 Phílip astonished,
But still held me tight.
'Ah, Phílip, 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,
Matróna, 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 belovèd,
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 Goóbin,
"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
Matróna Korchágin?"
"An old woman, brothers,
And not drink some vodka?"

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."

Matróna
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!

Matróna
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 Phílip had told me:
I worked, with the anger
Hid deep in my bosom,
And never a murmur
Allowed to escape me.