From store-room keg upon keg follows after,
Workers’ voices everywhere heard.
They bake, they boil,
At sweeping toil,
Tables and floors they wash them all.
And where is the Servant
who cares not for wage?
To Kiev she is gone
on pilgrimage.
[[55]]
From store-room keg upon keg follows after,
Workers’ voices everywhere heard.
They bake, they boil,
At sweeping toil,
Tables and floors they wash them all.
And where is the Servant
who cares not for wage?
To Kiev she is gone
on pilgrimage.
[[55]]