The clerical machine, though,
Came to a sudden stop,
Since its collection pouches
Were strangled at the top.
The cunning, wily peasants
Who never miss a trick
Took of god Perun’s drowning
Advantage rather quick.
Donations at the Masses,
And Prayers, they forebore—
Why should they give their kopecks,
Since Perun was no more?
Offertories were neglected,
Funerals were very still;
Sextons suffered of starvation,
Priests could not their bellies fill.
Miracles appeared—some people
Saw Saints’ pictures blood exude,
And a virgin village maiden
Gave birth to a dragon brood.
Signs and omens scarred the heavens,
All the hags were stricken dumb;
All disposed of their possessions,
Fearing judgment day to come.
Women, scared of premonitions,
Seemed to hear the water roar
Of another flood arushing
Through each crevice, crack and door.
Newlyweds were blessed with babies
Three months after they were wed—
Kinsmen, don your life preservers
Ere the Flood pours o’er your head!
[46]
