The peasants, [vol. 2] : $b WinterReymont, Władysław Stanisław
General
The peasants, [vol. 2] : $b Winter
Reymont, Władysław Stanisław
Peasants -- Poland -- Fiction; Polish fiction -- Translations into English
“Throughout the summer, things went fairly well with him. He lay in the
shade, or ate the corn on strangers’ lands. But winter came round, the
snow fell, there was little to eat, and he was pinched with cold.
Therefore he went farther and farther away to get food. He had to run
day and night, the wolves following him close and often biting his
flanks very deep.
“Away he ran, and ran, and ran, even to the confines of the winter—to a
meadow where the weather was warm, the grass knee-deep and over, and
streamlets sparkled in the sun, with cool shadows moving to and fro upon
their banks, and a pleasant breeze blowing over them. He went to eat
that grass, for he was famishing: but, whenever he thought to get a
mouthful, it was only a mouthful of hard stones he got: the grass had
disappeared. Then he would fain taste some water: it was there no more,
but only stinking mire in its stead! He sought the shade to lie down: it
floated away, and he was burned and baked by the sun.—Then he would have
returned to the forests: they too had vanished! The poor horse neighed
in distress, and other horses answered him; and, following the sound, he
at last got beyond the meadow and came to a great farm-house. All of
silver it seemed to be, its panes as of precious jewels, its thatch like
the star-studded sky; and several folk were there, going to and fro. He
crawled after them, for now he was willing to labour, no matter how
hard, rather than die miserably of hunger. But he lingered on all day in
the heat, and no one came to put a halter on him. At evening, however,
someone came out: it was the farmer. Now He was the Lord Jesus, the
Great Husbandman, the Holiest! and He said:
“‘You lazy one, you that have slain a man, you have naught to do here.
Not till they that curse you now shall bless you, will I admit you into
My stable.’
“‘I did but strike him back, because he beat me.’
“‘For that beating he has answered to Me; but I hold all justice in My
hands.’
“‘I am so starved!’ the horse whinnied, ‘so thirsty! so tormented with
pain!’
“‘I have spoken. Away! and I will command the wolves to harry and pursue
you.’
“So back went the horse to the land of winter, and dragged himself along
in hunger and cold and exceeding great fear; for the wolves—the hounds
of the Lord, as it were—hunted him on continually, and scared him with
their howls. At last, one spring night, he stood before the gate of his
master’s dwelling-house, where he neighed, expecting to be received.
“But at that sound the widow and her children rushed out, and, snatching
up sticks, staves and cudgels, they beat him cursing him the while for
his evil deed, whereby they had come to great misery and destitution.
“Then went he back to the woods, knowing not what else to do. The wild
beasts came up against him, and he did not defend himself, for he now
thought death as good as life. Howbeit, they only touched his sides, and
the chief amongst them said:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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