Page:Conversion of St Vladimir.pdf/40



The police commands obeisance,

It will flay you if you kick—

With a switch it whips the tailor,

And the cobbler with a stick.

Here they lead him, bound and shackled—

How it galls my peace of mind!—

Two are pulling at his elbows,

One is pushing from behind.

Perun’s wife was in the backyard

Washing out the dirt

At the well, from Perun’s little

Youngster’s muddy shirt.