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

But I did not listen!
I said to myself
That if penance were needful
The mothers must suffer,
But not little children.

I said, 'I am guilty, 210
My God—not my children!'
"It seems God was angry
And punished me for it
Through my little son;

My Father-in-law
To the commune had offered
My little Fedótka
As help to the shepherd
When he was turned eight….

One night I was waiting 220
To give him his supper;
The cattle already
Were home, but he came not.
I went through the village
And saw that the people
Were gathered together
And talking of something.

I listened, then elbowed
My way through the people;
Fedótka was set 230
In their midst, pale and trembling,
The Elder was gripping
His ear. 'What has happened?
And why do you hold him?'

I said to the Elder.
"'I'm going to beat him,—
He threw a young lamb
To the wolf,' he replied.

"I snatched my Fedótka
Away from their clutches; 240
And somehow the Elder
Fell down on the ground!

"The story was strange:
It appears that the shepherd
Went home for awhile,
Leaving little Fedótka
In charge of the flock.

'I was sitting,' he told me,
'Alone on the hillside,
When all of a sudden 250
A wolf ran close by me
And picked Masha's lamb up.

I threw myself at her,
I whistled and shouted,
I cracked with my whip,
Blew my horn for Valétka,
And then I gave chase.

I run fast, little Mother,
But still I could never
Have followed the robber 260
If not for the traces
She left; because, Mother,
Her breasts hung so low
(She was suckling her children)
They dragged on the earth
And left two tracks of blood.

But further the grey one
Went slower and slower;

And then she looked back
And she saw I was coming. 270
At last she sat down.

With my whip then I lashed her;
''Come, give me the lamb,
You grey devil!'' She crouched,
But would not give it up.

I said—''I must save it
Although she should kill me.''

I threw myself on her
And snatched it away,
But she did not attack me. 280

The lamb was quite dead,
She herself was scarce living.

She gnashed with her teeth
And her breathing was heavy;
And two streams of blood ran
From under her body.

Her ribs could be counted,
Her head was hung down,
But her eyes, little Mother,
Looked straight into mine … 290

Then she groaned of a sudden,
She groaned, and it sounded
As if she were crying.
I threw her the lamb….'

"Well, that was the story.
And foolish Fedótka
Ran back to the village
And told them about it.

And they, in their anger,
Were going to beat him 300
When I came upon them.

The Elder, because
Of his fall, was indignant,
He shouted—'How dare you!
Do you want a beating
Yourself?' And the woman
Whose lamb had been stolen
Cried, 'Whip the lad soundly,
'Twill teach him a lesson!'

Fedótka she pulled from 310
My arms, and he trembled,
He shook like a leaf.

"Then the horns of the huntsmen
Were heard,—the Pomyéshchick
Returning from hunting.

I ran to him, crying,
'Oh, save us! Protect us!'
"'What's wrong? Call the Elder!'

And then, in an instant,
The matter is settled: 320

'The shepherd is tiny—
His youth and his folly
May well be forgiven.
The woman's presumption
You'll punish severely!'

"'Oh, Barin, God bless you!'
I danced with delight!
'Fedótka is safe now!
Run home, quick, Fedótka.'

"'Your will shall be done, sir,' 330
The Elder said, bowing;
'Now, woman, prepare;
You can dance later on!'

"A gossip then whispered,
'Fall down at the feet
Of the Elder—beg mercy!'
"'Fedótka—go home!'
"Then I kissed him, and told him:

'Remember, Fedótka,
That I shall be angry 340
If once you look backwards.
Run home!'

"Well, my brothers,
To leave out a word
Of the song is to spoil it,—
I lay on the ground…."

"I crawled like a cat
To Fedótushka's corner
That night. He was sleeping,
He tossed in his dream. 350

One hand was hung down,
While the other, clenched tightly,
Was shielding his eyes:

'You've been crying, my treasure;
Sleep, darling, it's nothing—
See, Mother is near!'

I'd lost little Djóma
While heavy with this one;
He was but a weakling,
But grew very clever. 360

He works with his dad now,
And built such a chimney
With him, for his master,
The like of it never
Was seen. Well, I sat there
The whole of the night
By the sweet little shepherd.

At daybreak I crossed him,
I fastened his laputs,
I gave him his wallet, 370
His horn and his whip.

The rest began stirring,
But nothing I told them
Of all that had happened,
But that day I stayed
From the work in the fields.

"I went to the banks
Of the swift little river,
I sought for a spot
Which was silent and lonely 380
Amid the green rushes
That grow by the bank.

"And on the grey stone
I sat down, sick and weary,
And leaning my head
On my hands, I lamented,
Poor sorrowing orphan.

And loudly I called
On the names of my parents:

'Oh, come, little Father, 390
My tender protector!
Oh, look at the daughter
You cherished and loved!'

"In vain do I call him!
The loved one has left me;
The guest without lord,
Without race, without kindred,
Named Death, has appeared,
And has called him away.

"And wildly I summon 400
My mother, my mother!
The boisterous wind cries,
The distant hills answer,
But mother is dead,
She can hear me no longer!

"You grieved day and night,
And you prayed for me always,
But never, beloved,
Shall I see you again;

You cannot turn back now, 410
And I may not follow.

"A pathway so strange,
So unknown, you have chosen,
The beasts cannot find it,
The winds cannot reach it,
My voice will be lost
In the terrible distance….

"My loving protectors,
If you could but see me!

Could know what your daughter 420
Must suffer without you!

Could learn of the people
To whom you have left her!