"'The German went driving To town with three horses; Look! now he is coming With boxes and bedding, 370 And God knows wherefrom Has this bare-footed German Raised wife and small children! And now he's established A village ispravnik,[50] They live like two brothers. His courtyard at all times Is teeming with strangers, And woe to the peasants-- The fallen Korojins! 380 He sucked us all dry To the very last farthing; And flog!--like the soul Of Shalashnikov flogged he! Shalashnikov stopped When he got what he wanted; He clung to our backs Till he'd glutted his stomach, And then he dropped down Like a leech from a dog's ear. 390 But he had the grip Of a corpse--had this German; Until he had left you Stripped bare like a beggar You couldn't escape.' "'But how could you bear it?' "'Ah, how could we bear it? Because we were giants-- Because by their patience The people of Russia Are great, little Grandchild. 400 You think, then, Matrona, That we Russian peasants No warriors are? Why, truly the peasant Does not live in armour, Does not die in warfare, But nevertheless He's a warrior, child. His hands are bound tight, 410 And his feet hung with fetters; His back--mighty forests Have broken across it; His breast--I will tell you, The Prophet Elijah In chariot fiery Is thundering within it; And these things the peasant Can suffer in patience. He bends--but he breaks not; 420 He reels--but he falls not; Then is he not truly A warrior, say?' "'You joke, little Grandad; Such warriors, surely, A tiny mouse nibbling Could crumble to atoms,' I said to Savyeli. "'I know not, Matrona, But up till to-day 430 He has stood with his burden; He's sunk in the earth 'Neath its weight to his shoulders; His face is not moistened With sweat, but with heart's blood. I don't know what may Come to pass in the future, I can't think what will Come to pass--only God knows. For my part, I know 440 When the storm howls in winter, When old bones are painful, I lie on the oven, I lie, and am thinking: ''Eh, you, strength of giants, On what have they spent you? On what are you wasted? With whips and with rods They will pound you to dust!''' "'But what of the German, 450 Savyeli?' "'The German? Well, well, though he lived Like a lord in his glory For eighteen long years, We were waiting our day. Then the German considered A factory needful, And wanted a pit dug. 'Twas work for nine peasants. 460 We started at daybreak And laboured till mid-day, And then we were going To rest and have dinner, When up comes the German: ''Eh, you, lazy devils! So little work done?'' He started to nag us, Quite coolly and slowly, Without heat or hurry; 470 For that was his way.