Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE CONVICTS, by ALEXEY (ALEKSEY) KONSTANTINOVICH TOLSTOY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE CONVICTS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The sun on the steppes is sinking
Last Line: On the road the fetters clink still.
Alternate Author Name(s): Prutkov, Koz'ma Petrovich


THE sun on the steppes is sinking,
And gold is the distant grass.
The convicts' fetters are clinking
On the dusty road as they pass.

They march, with heads closely shaven,
With heavy steps onward go,
Grief on their brows engraven
And doubt in their hearts below.

They march, with the shadows growing;
Two sorry beasts drag a cart,
And, lazily with them going,
Is a guard who lingers apart.

"Now, brothers, what of a chorus?
Forget all our fortunes forlorn!
Disaster was written for us
Long ago when we were born."

Then they start up a tune together,
And try it, and break into song,
Of lazy days in fine weather,
Of the Volga that flows far and long.

Of freedom and steppes they are singing;
They sing of an untamed will.
The day grows darker, and ringing
On the road the fetters clink still.





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