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(English translation)
Oh, my crate is so full,
I've got chintz and brocade.
Take pity, oh sweety,
Of this lad's shoulder
I will, I will go out into the tall rye,
I will wait there till the night comes,
Once I see the dark-eyed lass,
I will showcase all my goods.
I paid no small price myself,
So don't bargain or be stingy,
Bring your scarlet lips to me,
Sit closer to this fine lad.
The foggy night has already come,
The daring lad is awaiting,
Hark, it's her! The desired one has come,
The merchant is selling his goods.
Katya is haggling with care,
She is afraid to pay too much,
A lad is kissing his lass,
Asking her to raise the price.
Only the deep night knows,
What they agreed upon.
Straighten up now, oh tall rye,
And keep their secret scrupulously!
Oh, my crate is so light;
The strap is no longer cutting into my shoulders!
And all my lass took
Was one turquoise ring.
I had given her a whole piece of calico,
A scarlet ribbon for her braids,
A little belt—the white shirt
To strap on while haymaking.
The sweet one put everything
back into the box, but for the ring:
"I do not want to go around dressed up
Without a fiancé!"
Oh, you foolish young ones!
Did she herself not bring
The half-flask of sweet vodka?
And she did not take the gifts!
So stay right here!
An unbreakable promise I give:
Once I empty the crate,
I'll return home,
And you, my Sweetheart,
To God's church I will lead!
All through the rainy night,
The young man runs,
And catches up to a grumbling comrade
in the village.
Old Tihonych swears:
"I really thought you were gone!"
Vanka only smirks-
I sold the chintz!
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