A broad-shouldered youth
Was this Grisha; his face, though,
Was terribly thin.
In the clerical college
The students got little 70
To eat. Sometimes Grisha
Would lie the whole night
Without sleep; only longing
For morning and breakfast,--
The coarse piece of bread
And the glassful of sbeeten.[61]
The village was poor
And the food there was scanty,
But still, the two brothers
Grew certainly plumper 80
When home for the holidays--
Thanks to the peasants.
The boys would repay them
By all in their power,
By work, or by doing
Their little commissions
In town. Though the deacon
Was proud of his children,
He never had given
Much thought to their feeding. 90
Himself, the poor deacon,
Was endlessly hungry,
His principal thought
Was the manner of getting
The next piece of food.
He was rather light-minded
And vexed himself little;
But Dyomna, his wife,
Had been different entirely:
She worried and counted, 100
So God took her soon.
The whole of her life
She by salt[62] had been troubled:
If bread has run short
One can ask of the neighbours;
But salt, which means money,
Is hard to obtain.
The village with Dyomna
Had shared its bread freely;
And long, long ago 110
Would her two little children
Have lain in the churchyard
If not for the peasants.
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