Page:Poems, Alexander Pushkin, 1888.djvu/97

Rh Or by the waves a fisher taken,

Or some fellow, drunkard,

Or by robbers stripped, perchance,

Trader some, unbusinesslike?

To the peasant, what is this?

About he looks and hastens.&hellip;

Seizes he the body drowned,

By the feet to water drags it,

And from the shore the winding

Off he pushes it with oar

Downward 'gain floats the corpse,

And grave, and cross still is seeking.

And long the dead among the waves,

As if living, swinging, floated;

With his eyes the peasant him

Homeward going, followed.

"Ye little dogs, now follow me,

Each of you a cake shall have;

But look ye out, and hold your tongues!

Else a thrashing shall ye have.

At night the wind to blow began

Full of waves became the river;

Out the light was already going

In the peasant's smoky hut.