It was not a horn that in the early morning sounded; It was a maiden her ruddy braid lamenting: “Last night they twined my braid together, And interweaved my braid with pearls. Luká Ivánovich--Heaven requite him!-- Has sent a pitiless svákha hither. My braid has she begun to rend. Tearing out the gold from my braid, Shaking my pearls from my ruddy braids.” --From W. R. S. Ralston’s _The Songs of the Russian People_. MARRIAGE SONG Her mother has counselled Máryushka, Has given counsel to her dear Efímovna. “Go not, my child, Go not, my darling, Into thy father’s garden for apples, Nor catch the mottled butterflies, Nor frighten the little birds, Nor interrupt the clear-voiced nightingale. For shouldst thou pluck the apples The tree will wither away; Or seize the mottled butterfly, The butterfly will die. And shouldst thou frighten a little bird, That bird will fly away; Or interrupt the clear-voiced nightingale, The nightingale will be mute: But catch, my child, My dear one, catch The falcon bright in the open field, The green, the open field.” Máryushka has caught, Caught has the dear Efímovna, The falcon bright in the open field, The green, the open field. She has perched him on her hand, She has brought him to her mother. “Mother mine, Gosudárynya, I have caught the falcon bright.” --From W. R. S. Ralston’s _The Songs of the Russian People_. BEGGARS’ SONG “Whither art Thou fleeing?” they spoke in tears to Christ. “For whom art Thou leaving us? Who will without Thee give us to drink and eat, will clothe us and protect us against dark night?” “Weep not, poor people,” replied Christ: “Weep not, mendicants and homeless and small orphans! I will leave you a golden mountain, will give you a honeyed river, will give you vineyards, will give you heavenly manna. Only know how to manage that golden mountain, and to divide it among yourselves: and you will be fed and given drink; you will be clothed and covered up in dark nights.”