"The famine was scarcely
At end, when another
Misfortune befell us—
The dreaded recruiting. 40
But I was not troubled
By that, because Phílip
Was safe: one already
Had served of his people.
One night I sat working,
My husband, his brothers,
The family, all had
Been out since the morning.
My Father-in-law
Had been called to take part 50
In the communal meeting.
The women were standing
And chatting with neighbours.
But I was exhausted,
For then I was heavy
With child. I was ailing,
And hourly expected
My time. When the children
Were fed and asleep
I lay down on the oven. 60
The women came home soon
And called for their suppers;
But Father-in-law
Had not come, so we waited.
He came, tired and gloomy:
'Eh, wife, we are ruined!
I'm weary with running,
But nothing can save us:
They've taken the eldest—
Now give them the youngest! 70
I've counted the years
To a day—I have proved them;
They listen to nothing.
They want to take Phílip!
I prayed to the commune—
But what is it worth?
I ran to the bailiff;
He swore he was sorry,
But couldn't assist us.
I went to the clerk then; 80
You might just as well
Set to work with a hatchet
To chop out the shadows
Up there, on the ceiling,
As try to get truth
Out of that little rascal!
He's bought. They are all bought,—
Not one of them honest!
If only he knew it—
The Governor—he'd teach them! 90
If he would but order
The commune to show him
The lists of the volost,
And see how they cheat us!'
The mother and daughters
Are groaning and crying;
But I! … I am cold….
I am burning in fever! …
My thoughts … I have no thoughts!
I think I am dreaming! 100
My fatherless children
Are standing before me,
And crying with hunger.
The family, frowning,
Looks coldly upon them….
At home they are 'noisy,'
At play they are 'clumsy,'
At table they're 'gluttons'!
And somebody threatens
To punish my children— 110
They slap them and pinch them!
Be silent, you mother!
You wife of a soldier!"
* * * * *
"I now have no part
In the village allotments,
No share in the building,
The clothes, and the cattle,
And these are my riches:
Three lakes of salt tear-drops,
Three fields sown with grief!" 120
* * * * *
"And now, like a sinner,
I bow to the neighbours;
I ask their forgiveness;
I hear myself saying,
'Forgive me for being
So haughty and proud!
I little expected
That God, for my pride,
Would have left me forsaken!
I pray you, good people, 130
To show me more wisdom,
To teach me to live
And to nourish my children,
What food they should have,
And what drink, and what teaching.'"
* * * * *
"I'm sending my children
To beg in the village;
'Go, children, beg humbly,
But dare not to steal.'
The children are sobbing, 140
'It's cold, little Mother,
Our clothes are in rags;
We are weary of passing
From doorway to doorway;
We stand by the windows
And shiver. We're frightened
To beg of the rich folk;
The poor ones say, ''God will
Provide for the orphans!''
We cannot come home, 150
For if we bring nothing
We know you'll be angry!'"
* * * * *
"To go to God's church
I have made myself tidy;
I hear how the neighbours
Are laughing around me:
'Now who is she setting
Her cap at?' they whisper."
* * * * *