TATITERA — Про простой народ

Our village, then, is Radovo, Two hundred households, give or take. To anyone who looked it over, Our places were a pleasant sight.

We're rich in forest and in water, There are pastures, there are fields. And all across the holdings Poplars have been planted.

We don't push into grand affairs, But still, happiness is given us. Our yards are roofed with iron, Each has a garden and a barn.

Each has painted shutters, On holidays — meat and kvass. No wonder once the police chief Liked to stay as our guest.

We paid our dues on time, But — a stern judge — the elder Always added to the dues A measure of flour and millet.

And to avoid misfortune, The surplus was no burden to us. Power is power, that's what it is — And we are only common folk.

But people — all are sinful souls. Many have eyes like fangs. From the neighboring village of Kriushi The muzhiks looked askance at us.

Their life was hard, Almost the whole village in a rush Plowed with a single wooden plow On a pair of worn-out nags.

What plenty could you hope for there — If only the soul stayed alive. On the sly they cut Firewood from our forest.

One day we caught them… They to their axes, we the same. From the clang and grind of steel A shiver ran through the body.

And we are only common folk!