"We'd never he late with quit-rent
But the head man — he wielded power —
Would always demand in addition
A measure of millet or flour.
And so to avert disaster
We'd pay up — for it's no joke —
A master is always master
And we are just common folk.
"But people are all born sinners,
And some eyes are sharper than tusks.
The men of the neighbouring village,
Kriusha, had eyes on us.
Their life was nothing to talk of —
For ploughing the most they could raise
Was a couple of clapped-out horses
And a plough that had seen better days.
...
Read all translation at: a Site of Vladimir Rogatin
Russian original text at: Anna Snegina