Nikolay Nekrasov
In the Country

“The joy! We’re gladdened by a far-off stream a-babbling,
And this dark shading oak with its mysterious gabbling;
And like an idle youth, the evening nightingale
Delights us as it trills its pensive, lovely scale;
The distant vault of heaven with its starry etching
Appears with love above each one of us now stretching;
And as the moon we cherish, with our distant gaze,
Our soul begins to hear that melancholic phrase
That is more sweet than joy… Whence comes this jubilation?
Why happy we? For long ago was youth’s elation!
Has not our daily labour in pursuit of dreams
Destroyed us yet? How can it be that now it seems
Impoverished people in diverting nature’s pleasure
May chance upon a moment of such freedom’s leisure?”

— So, let’s discuss it all! Let’s seek out all the whys!
The village has expunged the spirit’s doleful cries.
Forgotten now is labour, heavy and oppressive,
The sad unending care of poverty repressive —
For now the heart is gay… And better, sooner still,
For those whom happiness and freedom do not fill,
Rejoices destiny that in our state so tragic
We yet so vividly may sense creation’s magic,
The treasure which no prosperous nor well-fed land
May ever take from hungry, impecunious hand…

Translated by Rupert Moreton