Here you will find thePoemWhat The Sleepless Grandam Thinksof poet Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov
All through the cold night, beating wings shadowy Sweep o'er the church-village poor,-- Only one Grandam a hundred years hoary, Findeth her slumber no more. Harkens, if cocks to the dawn be not crowing, Rolls on her oven and weeps, Sees all her past rising up to confront her-- O'er her soul shameful it creeps! 'Woe to me sinner old! Woe! Once I cheated-- When from the church door I ran, And in the depths of the forest strayed hidden With my beloved Ivan. 'Woe to me! Burning in hell's leaping fires Surely will soon be my soul! I took a pair of eggs once at a neighbor's-- Out from her hen--yes, I stole! 'Once at the harvest at home I did linger-- Swore I was deadly sick,--when Taking my part in the drunken carousals Saturday night with the men! 'Light was I ever with soldiers! Yet cursing God's name, when from me at last,-- My own son they took for a soldier! Even drank cream on a fast. 'Woe to me sinner! Woe to me wretched one! Woe! My heart broken will be! Holy Madonna, have pity, have mercy! Into court go not with me!'
