The Sin of Gleb the Peasant
A'miral Widower sailed on the sea,Steering his vessels a-sailing went he.Once with the Turk a great battle he fought,His was the victory, gallantly bought.So to the hero as valour's rewardEight thousand souls did the Empress award.A'miral Widower lived on his landRich and content, till his end was at hand.As he lay dying this A'miral boldHanded his Elder a casket of gold."See that thou cherish this casket," he said,"Keep it and open it when I am dead.There lies my will, and by it you will seeEight thousand souls are from serfdom set free."Dead, on the table, the A'miral lies,A kinsman remote to the funeral hies.Buried! Forgotten! His relative soonCalls Gleb, the Elder, with him to commune.And, in a trice, by his cunning and skill,Learns of the casket, and terms of the will.Offers him riches and bliss unalloyed,Gives him his freedom,--the will is destroyed!Thus, by Gleb's longing for criminal gains,Eight thousand souls were left rotting in chains,Aye, and their sons and their grandsons as well,Think, what a crowd were thrown back into Hell!God forgives all. Yes, but Judas's crimeNe'er will be pardoned till end of all time.Peasant, most infamous sinner of all,Endlessly grieve to atone for thy fall!
Wrathful, relentless,The carter thus finishedThe tale of the peasantIn thunder-like tones.The others sigh deeplyAnd rise. They're exclaiming,"So, that's what it is, then,The sin of the peasant.He's right. 'Tis indeedA most terrible sin!"
"The story speaks truly;Our grief shall be endless,Ah, me!" says the Elder.(His faith in improvementsHas vanished again.)And Klimka, who alwaysIs swayed in an instantBy joy or by sorrow,Despondingly echoes,"A terrible sin!"
The green by the Volga,Now flooded with moonlight,Has changed of a sudden:The peasants no longerSeem men independentWith self-assured movements,They're "Earthworms" again--Those "Earthworms" whose victualsAre never sufficient,Who always are threatenedWith drought, blight, or famine,Who yield to the traderThe fruits of extortionTheir tears, shed in tar.The miserly hagglerNot only ill-pays them,But bullies as well:"For what do I pay you?The tar costs you nothing.The sun brings it oozingFrom out of your bodiesAs though from a pine."
Again the poor peasantsAre sunk in the depthsOf the bottomless gulf!Dejected and silent,They lie on their stomachsAbsorbed in reflection.But then they start singing;And slowly the song,Like a ponderous cloud-bank,Rolls mournfully onwards.They sing it so clearlyThat quickly our sevenHave learnt it as well.
Words in this poem 22
- widower n.
- A man who has lost his wife by death, and has not married again.
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- turk n.
- A member of any of numerous Tartar tribes of Central Asia, etc.; esp., one of the dominant race in Turkey. [Per. Turk; probably of Tartar origin: cf. F. Turc.]
- gallantly adv.
- In a polite or courtly manner; like a gallant or wooer.
- award v. t.
- To give by sentence or judicial determination; to assign or apportion, after careful regard to the nature of the case; to adjudge; as, the arbitrators awarded damages to the complainant. [OF. eswarder to look at, consider, decide, judge; es (L. ex) + warder, garder, to observe, take heed, keep, fr. OHG. wart to watch, guard. See Ward.]
- casket v. t.
- To put into, or preserve in, a casket.
- serfdom n.
- The state or condition of a serf.
- kinsman n.
- A man of the same race or family; one related by blood.
- commune n.
- The commonalty; the common people. [F., fr. commun. See Common.]
- trice v. t.
- To pull; to haul; to drag; to pull away. [OE. trisen; of Scand. or Low German origin; cf. Sw. trissa a sheave, pulley, triss a spritsail brace, Dan. tridse a pulley, tridse to haul by means of a pulley,]
- unalloyed a.
- Not alloyed; not reduced by foreign admixture; unmixed; unqualified; pure; as, unalloyed metals; unalloyed happiness.
- sinner n.
- One who has sinned; especially, one who has sinned without repenting; hence, a persistent and incorrigible transgressor; one condemned by the law of God.
- endlessly adv.
- In an endless manner.
- atone v. t.
- To set at one; to reduce to concord; to reconcile, as parties at variance; to appease.
- wrathful a.
- Full of wrath; very angry; greatly incensed; ireful; passionate; as, a wrathful man.
- relentless a.
- Unmoved by appeals for sympathy or forgiveness; insensible to the distresses of others; destitute of tenderness; unrelenting; unyielding; unpitying; as, a prey to relentless despotism.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- swayed a.
- Bent down, and hollow in the back; sway-backed; -- said of a horse.
- despondingly adv.
- In a desponding manner.
- famine n.
- General scarcity of food; dearth; a want of provisions; destitution. [F. famine, fr. L. fames hunger; cf. Gr. hani loss, lack, ha to leave.]
- miserly a.
- Like a miser; very covetous; sordid; niggardly. [From Miser.]
- haggler n.
- One who haggles or is difficult in bargaining.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Sin of Gleb the Peasant is in the public domain. This text is taken from Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia?, Project Gutenberg ebook #9619; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Nikolai Nekrasov, The Sin of Gleb the Peasant, in Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia? (1917), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #9619, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/nekrasov-who-can-be-happy/the-sin-of-gleb-the-peasant.html, id L25520.
Form and metre
The Sin of Gleb the Peasant is 85 lines in 5 stanzas. The metre is anapaestic dimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 86%).
See other poems in anapaestic dimeter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABBCCDDEEFFAAGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNN seaA · heA · foughtB · boughtB · rewardC · awardC · landD · handD · boldE · goldE · saidF · deadF · seeA · freeA · liesG · hiesG · soonH · communeH · skillI · willI · unalloyedJ · destroyedJ · gainsK · chainsK · wellL · hellL · crimeM · timeM · allN · fallN
- 2 --A----A-- relentless · finished · peasantA · tones · deeply · exclaiming · then · peasantA · indeed · sin
- 3 -----A--A- truly · endless · elder · improvements · again · alwaysA · instant · sorrow · echoesA · sin
- 4 --A---A---A----------- volga · moonlight · suddenA · longer · independent · movements · againA · victuals · sufficient · threatened · famineA · trader · extortion · tar · haggler · them · well · you · nothing · oozing · bodies · pine
- 5 ------AA----- peasants · depths · gulf · silent · stomachs · reflection · singingA · songA · bank · onwards · clearly · seven · well
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against anapaestic dimeter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| A'miral Widower sailed on the sea, | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Steering his vessels a-sailing went he. | 10 | /˘·/˘·/˘·· |
| Once with the Turk a great battle he fought, | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| His was the victory, gallantly bought. | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| So to the hero as valour's reward | 10 | ···/˘·/˘˘/ |
| Eight thousand souls did the Empress award. | 10 | ·/˘···/˘˘/ |
| A'miral Widower lived on his land | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Rich and content, till his end was at hand. | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| As he lay dying this A'miral bold | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Handed his Elder a casket of gold. | 10 | /˘·/˘·/˘·· |
| "See that thou cherish this casket," he said, | 10 | ···/˘·/˘·· |
| "Keep it and open it when I am dead. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| There lies my will, and by it you will see | 10 | ·········· |
| Eight thousand souls are from serfdom set free." | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Dead, on the table, the A'miral lies, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| A kinsman remote to the funeral hies. | 10 | ·/·˘/··/˘· |
| Buried! Forgotten! His relative soon | 9 | /˘˘/˘·/˘· |
| Calls Gleb, the Elder, with him to commune. | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| And, in a trice, by his cunning and skill, | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| Learns of the casket, and terms of the will. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Offers him riches and bliss unalloyed, | 10 | /˘·/˘··˘/· |
| Gives him his freedom,--the will is destroyed! | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| Thus, by Gleb's longing for criminal gains, | 9 | ···/˘·/˘· |
| Eight thousand souls were left rotting in chains, | 10 | ·/˘···/˘·· |
| Aye, and their sons and their grandsons as well, | 10 | ······/··· |
| Think, what a crowd were thrown back into Hell! | 10 | ·········· |
| God forgives all. Yes, but Judas's crime | 9 | ·˘/···/˘· |
| Ne'er will be pardoned till end of all time. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Peasant, most infamous sinner of all, | 9 | /˘·/˘/˘·· |
| Endlessly grieve to atone for thy fall! | 9 | /˘··˘/··· |
| Wrathful, relentless, | 5 | /˘˘/˘ |
| The carter thus finished | 6 | ·/˘·/˘ |
| The tale of the peasant | 6 | ····/˘ |
| In thunder-like tones. | 5 | ·/˘·· |
| The others sigh deeply | 6 | ·/˘·/˘ |
| And rise. They're exclaiming, | 6 | ···˘/˘ |
| "So, that's what it is, then, | 6 | ······ |
| The sin of the peasant. | 6 | ····/˘ |
| He's right. 'Tis indeed | 5 | ···˘/ |
| A most terrible sin!" | 6 | ··/˘˘· |
| "The story speaks truly; | 6 | ·/˘·/˘ |
| Our grief shall be endless, | 7 | /˘···/˘ |
| Ah, me!" says the Elder. | 6 | ····/˘ |
| (His faith in improvements | 6 | ···˘/˘ |
| Has vanished again.) | 5 | ·/˘˘/ |
| And Klimka, who always | 6 | ····/· |
| Is swayed in an instant | 6 | ····/˘ |
| By joy or by sorrow, | 6 | ····/˘ |
| Despondingly echoes, | 6 | ˘/˘˘/˘ |
| "A terrible sin!" | 5 | ·/˘˘· |
| The green by the Volga, | 6 | ····/˘ |
| Now flooded with moonlight, | 6 | ·/˘·/· |
| Has changed of a sudden: | 6 | ····/˘ |
| The peasants no longer | 6 | ·/˘·/˘ |
| Seem men independent | 6 | ···˘/˘ |
| With self-assured movements, | 6 | ··˘//˘ |
| They're "Earthworms" again-- | 5 | ·/·˘/ |
| Those "Earthworms" whose victuals | 6 | ·/··/˘ |
| Are never sufficient, | 6 | ·/˘˘/˘ |
| Who always are threatened | 6 | ·/··/˘ |
| With drought, blight, or famine, | 6 | ····/˘ |
| Who yield to the trader | 6 | ····/˘ |
| The fruits of extortion | 6 | ···˘/˘ |
| Their tears, shed in tar. | 5 | ····· |
| The miserly haggler | 6 | ·/˘˘/˘ |
| Not only ill-pays them, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| But bullies as well: | 5 | ·/˘·· |
| "For what do I pay you? | 6 | ······ |
| The tar costs you nothing. | 6 | ····/˘ |
| The sun brings it oozing | 6 | ····/˘ |
| From out of your bodies | 6 | ····/˘ |
| As though from a pine." | 5 | ····· |
| Again the poor peasants | 6 | ˘/··/˘ |
| Are sunk in the depths | 5 | ····· |
| Of the bottomless gulf! | 6 | ··/˘˘· |
| Dejected and silent, | 6 | ˘/˘·/˘ |
| They lie on their stomachs | 6 | ····/˘ |
| Absorbed in reflection. | 6 | ˘/·˘/˘ |
| But then they start singing; | 6 | ····/˘ |
| And slowly the song, | 5 | ·/˘·· |
| Like a ponderous cloud-bank, | 6 | ··/˘·· |
| Rolls mournfully onwards. | 6 | ····/˘ |
| They sing it so clearly | 6 | ····/˘ |
| That quickly our seven | 7 | ·/˘/˘/˘ |
| Have learnt it as well. | 5 | ····· |
Notes from the edition 1
The translator's own notes to Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia? (Project Gutenberg #9619).
- Stanza 1, line 6 Serfs.
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.