Lyrics Тарас Григорович Шевченко - Наймичка. ч.4

VI
Three times the ice froze,
Melted three times,
Three times a mercenary in Kiev
Katrya saw off,
Yes, like a mother; and in the fourth
Spent to heaven
All the way to the field, to the grave,
And she prayed to God,
To return quickly,
Because without her in the house
Somehow sad, like a mother
She left the house.

After the Immaculate Conception on Sunday,
And after the First Little
The old man was sitting in a white shirt,
In the block, on the porch. In front of him
He played with his granddaughter's dog,
And the granddaughter dressed in a skirt
She seemed to be going to Katrina
To visit my grandfather. He laughed
The old man and granddaughter greeted,
As if really a young woman:
"And where did you do the burning?
Or maybe someone took it in the woods?
Did you just forget to take it? ..
Or maybe she hasn't baked yet?
Oh, shame, shame, motherfucker! ”
As soon as he glanced, the mercenary entered
Outside. He ran to meet
With his grandchildren Anna.
"Is Marco on the road?" -
Anna's grandfather asked.
"On the road still."
"It simply came to my notice then
To your house,
I did not want to go abroad
One to die!
If Mark were to wait ...
So something difficult happened! ”
And grandchildren from the hole
Hotels took out:
And crosses, and dukachiki,
And necklaces for once
Yarinochka, and red
Foil sample,
A carp nightingale
And a pair of grasshoppers,
And the fourth is already a ring
Saint Barbara
Catherine, and grandfather
From the wax of the saint
Three candles; and Mark
And wow
Did not bring: did not buy,
Because there is no money left,
And I couldn't make money.
"It simply came to our notice then
Half a bagel! ”
And piece by piece
She divided it for the children.

VII
She entered the house. Catherine
She washed her feet
I planted it at noon.
I did not drink or eat
Old Anna.
“Catherine!
When is Sunday for us? ”
"Day after tomorrow".
"It simply came to our notice then
Akathist hire
Saint Nicholas
And for a fraction of a date;
Because something Marco was late ...
Maybe somewhere along the way
If you get sick, God forbid! ”
And shed tears
From the old eyes of the tortured.
Barely got up
From behind the table.
“Catherine!
Not that I became:
I'm hungry, I'm sick
And get to your feet.
It's hard, Katre, to die
In someone else's warm house! ”

Sick of heaven.
Already partook of communion,
And the holy of holies served -
No, it didn't help.
Old Little by the weather,
Tongue killed, walking.
Catherine is in pain
And does not take his eyes off;
Catherine around her
And day and night.
Meanwhile, the owls at night
Bad prophecy
In the pantry. Painful
What day, what hour,
Barely heard, he asks:
“Donya Katerino!
Has Marco not arrived yet?
Oh, if I only knew
What will I wait for, what will I see,
I would have waited! ”