The day is a hot one, The peasants are strolling Along 'neath the birch-trees. They say to each other, "We passed through one village, 40 We passed through another, And both were quite empty; To-day is a feast-day, But where are the people?"
They reach a large village; The street is deserted Except for small children, And inside the houses Sit only the oldest Of all the old women. 50 The wickets are fastened Securely with padlocks; The padlock's a loyal And vigilant watch-dog; It barks not, it bites not, But no one can pass it.
They walk through the village And see a clear mirror Beset with green framework-- A pond full of water; 60 And over its surface Are hovering swallows And all kinds of insects; The gnats quick and meagre Skip over the water As though on dry land; And in the laburnums Which grow on the banksides The landrails are squeaking.
A raft made of tree-trunks 70 Floats near, and upon it The pope's heavy daughter Is wielding her beetle, She looks like a hay-stack, Unsound and dishevelled, Her skirts gathered round her. Upon the raft, near her, A duck and some ducklings Are sleeping together.
And hark! from the water 80 The neigh of a horse comes; The peasants are startled, They turn all together: Two heads they see, moving Along through the water-- The one is a peasant's, A black head and curly, In one ear an ear-ring Which gleams in the sunlight; A horse's the other, 90 To which there is fastened A rope of some yards length, Held tight in the teeth Of the peasant beside it. The man swims, the horse swims; The horse neighs, the man neighs; They make a fine uproar! The raft with the woman And ducklings upon it Is tossing and heaving. 100
The horse with the peasant Astride has come panting From out of the water, The man with white body And throat black with sunburn; The water is streaming From horse and from rider.
"Say, why is your village So empty of people? Are all dead and buried?" 110
"They've gone to Kousminsky; A fair's being held there Because it's a saint's day."
"How far is Kousminsky?" "Three versts, I should fancy." "We'll go to Kousminsky," The peasants decided, And each to himself thought, "Perhaps we shall find there The happy, the free one." 120