IN A PEASANT HUT
Martha Dickinson Bianchi translation
Sultry dampness—pine chips smoking, Off-scourings a span length, In the corners webs of spiders, Smut on dish and bench.
Sooty black the bare wall, crock stained, Water—dry hard bread; Groanings, coughings, children's whimper, Wretched bitter need!
And a beggar's death for years of Harshest drudgery— Learn to put your trust in God here, And to patient be.