Song of Karmelūk
(Written by himself)
From Siberia I return—
With no fortune I am come.
Not in chains, but yet not free.
Wife and children may be mine,
But their faces I can’t see.
When I think upon their fate
Then I weep most bitterly.
Good lads have I gathered round
(What concerns it any one?),
By the road lie on the ground!
Riders, when will ye pass by?
Tedious it is to wait—
No abode, no hut have I.
The police won’t make me wince
Though Assessors scan each nook,
Hunt in every likely den.
They themselves have killed more men
Than your Karmelūk has sins!
“Robber!” so good folk may cry—
“Murderer!” But I’ve killed none.
For, look ye, I have a soul.
I may take from rich my toll
(And I’ll do it too, be sure!),
Free from sin is Karmelūk
For he gives it to the poor.
Rising o’er Siberia
Shines the sun. Keep watch you must.
Yet in me put all your trust.
Rest your hopes on Karmelūk!