At work in the fields,
While rocking her darling
Her favourite, Grisha.
And many years after
The death of his mother,
His heart would grow heavy
And sad, when the peasants
Remembered one song,
And would sing it together 130
As Dyomna had sung it;
They called it "The Salt Song."



_The Salt Song_

Now none but God
Can save my son:
He's dying fast,
My little one....

I give him bread---
He looks at it,
He cries to me,
"Put salt on it." 140
I have no salt--
No tiny grain;
"Take flour," God whispers,
"Try again...."