"
"No wings would be needful
If we could be certain
Of bread every day;
For then we could travel
On foot at our leisure," 290
Said Prov, of a sudden
Grown weary and sad.
"But not without vodka,
A bucket each morning,"
Cried both brothers Goobin,
Mitrodor and Ivan,
Who dearly loved vodka.
"Salt cucumbers, also,
Each morning a dozen!"
The peasants cry, jesting. 300
"Sour qwass,[5] too, a jug
To refresh us at mid-day!"
"A can of hot tea
Every night!" they say, laughing.
But while they were talking
The little bird's mother
Was flying and wheeling
In circles above them;
She listened to all,
And descending just near them 310
She chirruped, and making
A brisk little movement
She said to Pakhom
In a voice clear and human:
"Release my poor child,
I will pay a great ransom."
"And what is your offer?"
"A loaf each a day
And a bucket of vodka,
Salt cucumbers also, 320
Each morning a dozen.
At mid-day sour qwass
And hot tea in the evening."
"And where, little bird,"
Asked the two brothers Goobin,
"And where will you find
Food and drink for all seven?"
"Yourselves you will find it,
But I will direct you
To where you will find it." 330
"Well, speak. We will listen."
"Go straight down the road,
Count the poles until thirty:
Then enter the forest
And walk for a verst.
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