Oh, my crate is so full,|I've got calico 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 - for the white shirt|To strap 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 fianc!" ||Oh, you foolish young maidens!|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 for Pokrov,|And you, my Sweetheart,|To God's church I will lead! ||Up until the rainy evening,|The fine lad runs,|And catches up to a grumbling comrade|in the village. ||Old Tihonych swears:|"I really thought you were gone!"|Vanka only smirks - I was selling the calico!