Б. Сотников Русская любовь перевод на английский я

Vasilisa was on guard on our account too. Once in the evening Genka and myself, even blushed  when Mashenka was leaving our room for her own, and Vasilisa  got at her and so loud, that we also heard:
         – You have no business to sit with them! Just listen to them – they would tell you stories!.. One – about our history, the other – paints portraits for his pleasure! And you listen to them! The fellows are healthy and not ours. Who knows, what is on their minds!.. The way they fell to us from the sky, the same way they would fly away. They are, like free birds, you don’t compare yourself with them!..
Masha didn’t  justify herself from her mother’s unjust accusations. But after that seldom visited us. And only in cases, when her mother was leaving the house. And in her presence she liked reading book. Would sit somewhere near the samovar, light the gas lamp and drink tea with mother, turning over the pages. The books were, as Vasilisa thought, about somebody’s love and sufferings, far countries. Sympathized with all. Where she got these books from, we did not know. There was no club, no library, no school in Luzhki. When she studied, she had to walk to school in the other village, to Lapki, located on the other bank of the Oka. And, in addition, it was necessary to get there by the ferry.
 One evening Mashenyka was reading aloud the book “The path of thunder” – about  the African negroes. As always sympathized, understanding their hard life. Mother was standing at the stove, supporting her flabby cheek with her palm, and looking at the daughter, listening and listening, but, perhaps, seeing her own Africa here, so sad she had been. What is here to say, indeed – so many troubles befell her! On Monday – to earth up a potato, to save wood for the winter, to wash the linen. To send Masha after gas. In the same shop – bread, herring, etc... Near to autumn  it was necessary to heat up the stove. The nights became raw and cold. And in the morning – to get up earlier, to cook offhand dinner for Mashenka and herself. And then – to mend something or darn… Well, many other things! Rushes about, as mad, almost not feeling the legs, though Mashenka helped her, she washed and darned as well. Knitted mittens from wool and socks to sell. People lived difficult in this house.
We also helped, as we could. All the firewood, prepared for winter, we have chopped and folded into stacks. We also had put the fallen fence around the flower beds, so that the neighboring goats and pigs shouldn’t  get there. We had also repaired the roof, as were able to do it. But Vasilisa and Mashenka all the same continued to carry their load themselves, as the horses on the sand. Hard.
Vasilisa pursued the only purpose – to do all possible to set her daughter free from the unbearable hard labor, she didn’t any longer take into account herself, considering, that she was already an old woman. Bu we once counted her years, she turned out to be only 42 years. She told me herself, that she gave birth to her first baby in the 1930th year, immediately after the marriage, when she was 20. And in 1933 her boy died of hunger. She gave birth to Mashenka in 2 years, when herself hardly died of hunger. When the girl was 6, the war began. In a year Vasilisa’s husband was killed in tne battle for Stalingrad. And in some ten years, when Vasilisa turned into a real old woman from hard labor, she could be taken not for Masha’ s mother, but for her granny. We were long surprised because of our discovery. It was difficult to believe, that Vasilisa and the rest women in the village were a little past 40.  We were wondering  before: why so many old women there? Where were the young women?
Mashenka no longer cried in her room, quieted down. And I began recollecting, how she was taking us in summer to the forest for mushrooms. Vasilisa went somewhere on business for the whole day, and Mshenka was very glad because o f it. She got up early together with her mother, saw her off and was waiting for us to awaken. It was Sunday, we were not to go to the airfield, so Mashenka proposed me, as soon as we returned from our flying dining room:
– Alexey Ivanich, would you like to see the mushroom place? There are a lot of them now!.. – But herself looked not at me, but at Genka. I remember thinking then. How strange people are made. Everything in feelings is turned upside down with us. One whom you like, is indifferent to you. And who loves you, finds your indifference to him. So, just such a triangle of relations seemed to be formed between us.  True, knowing that Mashenka liked Genka, I didn’t give went to my feelings. By the time we went to the forest I myself was not sure about my attitude to Mashenka. She seemed to feel herself guilty on my account and tried either to smile nicely at me, or do something pleasant . Pitied me, in a word.
We left Luzhki when the sun already rose above the forest and poured our village with an even and warm light. The forest glades buzzed with bumblebees, it began to be hot, everything steamed, smelled with burnt grass. By dinner time we had picked up the whole baskets of mushrooms and were rather tired. Then Mashenka  got some food from her basket, which had taken from home and invited us to have a snack.
– Here you are ,Gena.
               She held out to him a peeled egg and a bottle of milk. Almost ate nothing herself, only looked, how he was eating. And was full of happiness that she was sitting close to him in the forest. And Genka seemed not to see her, didn’t tell her a single warm word, looked at the stems of far birches.
The glade, where we were sitting, was mowed by someone, the grass faded under the sun, and the lingering smell from which we felt dizzy, was creeping along. Mashenka also felt dizzy, she was laughing, joking at our expense, selecting and throwing away our toadstool mushrooms. She seemed to me drunk from her joy.
Since our baskets were now not full, she again led us to the forest, but attentively looking at the grass, tried to be closer to Genka. Not to be on their way, ! lagged behind, then turned a little sideways and sat down near the ant hill on a big stump. However, hardly had I smoked a cigarette, when Mashenka appeared in front of me.
– Allyosha, are you offended?..
Masenka’s blue clear eyes were unhappy, the pink petals of lips trembled. Smiling, I said:
– What for, Mashenka?
– Forgot about you, shameless. Gave milk to one and to the other…- She was almost crying.
– No, dear, I didn’t even think to get offended.
– No, you did, I see!.. Went away, sit here, alone…
I decided to distract her attention:
– And why don’t you call me by patronimic any longer?
She didn’t expect such an answer, was at a loss
– I don’t know, it happened somehow by itself…– she raised her clear eyes at ne and confessed;
– I only at home address you so, to cajole mum.
– Is she angry with you?
– Not because of you, because of Gena, as to you, she loves you!..
– Does she? I somehow didn’t notice it…– I must have also eyed Mashenka and, probably again loved her at that moment. Obviously, she saw in my eyes a question which I thought tactless to ask aloud: “And you?..” But she either didn’t hear it, or felt. Her breast issued almost a moan:
– Let us not speak about  it, okay? My soul is torn because of all that, – She quickly pressed herself to me, lightly kissed and ran, shouting: – Let’s go, otherwise you will get lost!.. It’s time to return!
                Between the tall and red fir tree stems the sun rays were falling aslant on the earth. And suddenly, in these rays a short summer rain, gathered by the heat into a dark little cloud above the forest, flew, sparkling with large mirror drops. Everywhere from the earth a light wavy steam lingered. It smelled with wet fir and faded leaves. But the rain had already jumped ahead and was carried with the forest noise above the oak trees, cracking on the hard leaves of the trees, flew aslant between the stems. And the sun suddenly again peeped through the whole forest .The drops of dew sparkled everywhere, like little diamonds. In the trees the grasshoppers came to senses, bees in the bushes, and all the glades were filled with the movements, moldiness and the itch of insects. Mashenka, –  also, as a little dew, all sparkled with happiness.
           – Oh, that’s when real mushrooms will grow!..– She exclaimed and began talking Genka into staying in the forest a couple of hours more. Throwing away from his basket a big old mushroom, she said:  – Shall we pick up such ones?..
              Yet Genka didn’t give in to her requests, and Mashenka seemed to get offended,  we walked all the way back in silence. The day slowly but truly was nearing the evening. We were again tired, and already going out of the forest, saw the big stumps in front and went to them to sit down for rest. The collective farm fields and meadows were already seen.
          Ants, appearing after the rain, began to attack Mashenka, when we sat down on the stumps. I gave her my red woolen scarf, which was in the pocket of my leather jacket. She wrapped with it her bare tender neck and again became merry.  We were sitting on the hill and looked afar. It was light and warm at heart. But especially happy I remembered Mashenka, sitting with my red scarf on the neck.
          Then we got up and went in the direction of our Luzhki, in which for some reason there were no poles with electric light – the old women might do without it, why to waste money on them! But, as if to make up for it, the squares of oats were poured with the free light of the sunset and issued the reddish tinge. The earth smelled wit plantains and the dust, hit by rain. On the horizon one could see the whitish field of rye. Above this field there rose in the sky tender-orange dawn. All in that part was piercing, light, as was light Mashenka’s soul, born in these places… And the time came, when everything light and pleasant was over with us. We are flying away today, and Mashenyka remains and is crying in a low veice in the adjoining room. It was necessary to get up, and I awoke Genka. – Is it the time? – he asked in alarm and jumped up.
             To be continued.