THE WIDOW'S LEDGER

[Intro]

Nine hundred forty-five. The Dnipro running low.

Ihor rode to the Drevlians. Twice, for the same gold.

[Verse 1]

They paid him once in honey, in black fox and in wax.

He turned the horses round for more. He never came back.

[Verse 2]

A wolf among the sheep, they said, takes the flock one by one.

They bent two birch trees to the ground and tied my husband on.

That's how the Greeks tell it. The rider wouldn't say.

My son is three. My hands are dry. I sent the rider away.

[Pre-Chorus]

Bar the gate. Count the spears. Light the long hall.

Prince Mal of Iskorosten, I have learned your name. That's all.

[Time]

[Drop]

Ihor's dead. Ihor's dead.

(Слава! Слава! Давай!)

Four debts on the Drevlians and I keep them in my head.

The widow holds the river, the widow holds the throne,

Sviatoslav is three years old, so Kyiv is my own.

[Drop 2]

(Слава! Слава! Давай!)

[Verse 3]

I didn't tear my dress. I didn't tear my hair.

I called in every boyar and I sat in Ihor's chair.

They think a widow is a door you simply walk straight through.

Twenty men are rowing down to tell me what to do.

I have Ihor's sword, Ihor's son and Ihor's gate.

Prince Mal, you want a wedding? Set the date. I'll wait.

A boat, a bath, a barrel and a sky full of birds.

Four debts. I'll pay them in order. You have my word.

[Outro]

Nine hundred forty-five. The river's running low.

Ihor's dead. I know.

[Fade Out]

[End]

[Intro]

Twenty men in one boat, down the Dnipro in the spring.

Prince Mal sends his compliments. Prince Mal sends a ring.

[Verse 1]

We killed him like a wolf, they say, but our princes are kind.

Marry Mal of Iskorosten. Put Ihor out of mind.

[Verse 2]

I say: your offer pleases me. A dead man won't rise.

Tomorrow I will honour you in front of Kyiv's eyes.

Go back and sleep on board tonight, and when my people call,

Say: we won't ride, we won't walk. Carry us, boat and all.

[Pre-Chorus]

All night in the courtyard, shovels in the clay.

Long enough for one boat. Deep enough to stay.

[Time]

[Drop]

Carry them in! Carry them in!

(Давай, давай! Ура!)

Twenty men on the benches with their chests out and their chins.

Carry them in! Over the edge!

How's the honour, gentlemen? Worse than Ihor's death.

[Drop 2]

(Давай, давай! Ура!)

[Verse 3]

They sat up in their silver and they never saw the ground.

My men let go the gunwales and the whole boat went down.

I leaned over the edge. I asked them how it felt.

Worse than Ihor, said the boat. I said: then that's one debt.

Prince Mal, send me your best men, the ones who run your land.

I'm coming to be married. I want a proper hand.

Twenty men came down the Dnipro. None of them went home.

Nine hundred forty-five. The widow's on the throne.

[Outro]

Carry them in.

One debt. Three to go.

[Fade Out]

[End]

[Intro]

Send me your best men. The ones who rule the land.

Kyiv won't let me leave with less. You understand.

[Verse 1]

They came in on the road this time. No boats. They'd heard.

Clean linen, oiled beards, every one of them a lord.

[Verse 2]

I said: you've travelled far. You smell of horse and road.

The bathhouse by the river's lit. The water's hot. The stones are glowing.

Go in and wash before the wedding, every noble son.

I'll see you when you're clean. I'll see you when you're done.

[Pre-Chorus]

Pine walls, pine roof, a bar across the door.

Fire takes a bathhouse fast. That's what pine is for.

[Time]

[Drop]

Wash first! Wash first!

(Боже мій! Давай!)

Steam up to the rafters, and the rafters catching first.

Wash first! Lock the door!

Prince Mal, that was your best men. Two debts. Two more.

[Drop 2]

(Боже мій! Давай!)

[Verse 3]

At first they sang. A wedding song. Through the steam, through the wall.

Then the bar came down across the door and the fire took it all.

I didn't watch. I counted. Every lord was there.

They came to wash for a wedding. Now they're smoke in the air.

No one rode home to Iskorosten. No one took the road.

Prince Mal is short of counsel now. The widow pays what's owed.

Two debts cleared and not a drop of blood on my dress.

Send a rider up to Iskorosten: I'm coming next.

[Outro]

Wash first.

Two debts. Two to go.

[Fade Out]

[End]

[Intro]

Brew the mead. Brew a lot. I'm coming to the grave.

I'll weep for Ihor where he fell. Then we'll eat. Behave.

[Verse 1]

I came with a small escort. I wept, and that was true.

We raised the mound above him. Then I did what widows do.

[Verse 2]

I set the tables on the hill. My own men pour the mead.

They ask about the twenty men, the lords who came before.

Behind me, with the bodyguard, I say. Then: pour them more.

Drink to Ihor, Drevlians. Drink to the widow's peace.

[Pre-Chorus]

A funeral feast is for the dead. Nobody asked me whose.

When the mead is in their legs I stand. One nod. That's the cue.

[Time]

[Drop]

Pour them another! Pour them another!

(Горько! Горько! Давай ще!)

Five thousand on the hillside, every son and every brother.

Pour them another! Drink to the prince!

The chronicle says five thousand. I haven't counted since.

[Drop 2]

(Горько! Горько! Давай ще!)

[Verse 3]

My men stayed sober. Theirs did not. That's all the trick there was.

Five thousand at a funeral. The monks still count the cost.

I rode back down to Kyiv and I raised a proper host.

Prince Mal, you asked me for a wedding. Here's the toast.

Three debts in a single year, no army, just a plan.

A boat, a bath, a barrel. Now I'm coming for the land.

Iskorosten, shut your gates and count your wood and your beer.

The widow's done with dinners. This debt takes a year.

[Outro]

Pour them another.

Three debts. One to go.

[Fade Out]

[End]

[Intro]

A year outside your walls, Iskorosten. Spring to spring.

Every other town has paid me. Why are you still standing?

[Verse 1]

My son threw the first spear. It fell beside his horse.

He's four. Sveneld said: the prince has begun. And the army followed, of course.

[Verse 2]

You shout down from the ramparts: we'd pay, but you want blood.

I've had my blood three times, I say. I'm finished. I'm good.

I don't want your honey. I don't want your wax.

Three pigeons and three sparrows from each house, and I'll go back.

[Pre-Chorus]

They laughed up on the walls. They sent the birds. Birds are cheap.

One bird for every soldier. Sulphur in a rag. Wait for dark.

[Time]

[Drop]

Fly home! Fly home!

(Ура! Ура! Слава!)

Every pigeon knows its roof, every sparrow knows its own.

Fly home! Light the town!

Three birds a house, Iskorosten, and every house burns down.

[Drop 2]

(Ура! Ура! Слава!)

[Verse 3]

Dovecotes, eaves and haylofts, every thatch alight,

No one fights a fire that starts on every roof the same night.

They ran out through the gates to me. I had men at the gates.

The elders to the sword. Some sold. The rest stayed on and paid.

Two parts of the tribute to Kyiv. One part to Vyshhorod, mine.

The monks say it was birds. Maybe. The town burned down fine.

Four debts, one year, one widow, and a boy who threw a spear.

Prince Mal, we're even. Drevlians, I'll see you every year.

[Outro]

Fly home.

Four debts. Paid.

[Fade Out]

[End]

[Intro]

Ihor rode out every winter for the tribute. Ihor's dead.

I'm not riding every winter. I'll have posts instead.

[Verse 1]

Nine hundred forty-seven. Novgorod. The Msta and the Luga.

A station on each river and a man of mine to run it.

[Verse 2]

Furs by the forty, honey by the barrel, wax by the weight.

Here's the quota, here's the season, here's the day you pay.

No more princes riding round with swords to ask for more.

Ihor asked for more. You know what asking's for.

[Pre-Chorus]

Two parts to Kyiv. One part to Vyshhorod, mine.

Count it in the autumn. Ship it on the river in good time.

[Time]

[Drop]

Pogost! Pogost!

(Хорошо! Давай!)

A post on every river and a quota on each town.

Pogost! Pogost!

Nobody dies collecting when the count is nailed down.

[Drop 2]

(Хорошо! Давай!)

[Verse 3]

I set hunting lodges north of Vyshhorod for hawks.

The Greeks pay gold for falcons. I sell them by the box.

My sledge still stands in Pskov, they say. I don't need it anymore.

A woman with a ledger doesn't ride from door to door.

Twenty years I ran it while my son learned war instead.

The Drevlians pay on time now. Nobody's lost his head.

Nine forty-seven to the Greek gold: this is how you build a state.

Not a sword in every village. A man, a post, a rate.

[Outro]

Two parts to Kyiv.

One to Vyshhorod. Mine.

[Fade Out]

[End]

[Intro]

Down the Dnipro, over the rapids, across the Black Sea.

A widow from the north with forty-three merchants and a priest.

[Verse 1]

Constantinople. Ninth of September. The Magnaura hall.

A golden tree with singing birds. Brass lions. I'm not impressed at all.

[Verse 2]

They sat me with the Empress, not down on the floor.

Five hundred silver pieces on a dish of gold. I've had more.

The dome of Hagia Sophia is a sky somebody built.

The Patriarch pours the water. Constantine stands sponsor. I kneel.

[Pre-Chorus]

I came in Olha: widow, pagan, regent of the Rus'.

I walk out Helena. The emperor's daughter. I know which one I'll use.

[Time]

[Drop]

Helena! Helena!

(Боже мій… Слава!)

They poured the water, I took the name, I took the better deal.

Helena! Helena!

Daughter of the emperor. First on the throne to kneel.

[Drop 2]

(Боже мій… Слава!)

[Verse 3]

Eighteenth of October. Second reception. Dinner with the family.

Two dates the emperor kept himself. That much is history.

The monks at home say Constantine stood sponsor at the font.

The Greeks don't mention it. Believe whichever one you want.

I've seen the light inside that dome. I'm not going back to wood.

Kyiv has a river and a gate. Now Kyiv has a God.

Olha for the Drevlians. Helena for the Greeks.

Both of them are me. Whichever one Kyiv needs.

[Outro]

Helena.

Daughter of the emperor.

[Fade Out]

[End]

[Intro]

He looked at me across the hall. He said: you're fit to reign.

You and I, in this city. I said: baptise me first. Then ask again.

[Verse 1]

He has an empress upstairs and a crown he wants to share.

A widow with a river, that's a dowry anywhere.

[Verse 2]

So he stood at the font himself. He poured. He called me daughter.

That's the thing about a godfather: he's family after.

Church law, Constantine. You taught it to me. You know the line.

Can't marry what you christened. It's your rule, not mine.

[Pre-Chorus]

He went quiet for a minute. Then he laughed, they say.

Olha, you have outwitted me. Gold, silver, silk. Good day.

[Time]

[Drop]

Call me daughter! Call me daughter!

(Нєт, нєт, нєт! Давай!)

You said it at the font, you can't un-say the water.

Call me daughter! Not your bride!

I'll take the God, I'll take the name, and I'll sail home with the tide.

[Drop 2]

(Нєт, нєт, нєт! Давай!)

[Verse 3]

Back in Kyiv, his envoys came for what I'd said I'd send:

Slaves and wax and furs and soldiers, like you'd send a friend.

I said: when your emperor has stood down in the Pochaina

Half as long as I stood in his court, we'll talk. Not before.

I sent them home with nothing. He had called me daughter.

Daughters don't pay tribute. He should have thought of that.

Twenty men once brought me a ring. They're under the courtyard.

An emperor brought me a crown. He's fine. I've gone soft.

[Outro]

Call me daughter.

Olha, you have outwitted me.

[Fade Out]

[End]

[Intro]

Sviatoslav, my son. I've seen it. Kneel with me. It's light.

He says: alone, Mother? My retinue would laugh. Not tonight.

[Verse 1]

I say: if you go first, they'll follow. That's what princes are for.

He says: a prince goes first in battle. He pulls the gate and rides to war.

[Verse 2]

I asked the German king for bishops. Adalbert came north.

He lasted one winter. Some of his men didn't make it home.

My son won't stop a Christian. He just laughs at them in the hall.

A mother can baptise a city. Can't baptise a boy at all.

[Pre-Chorus]

He wants the Danube. Pereyaslavets. Silk and wine and Greek gold.

Kyiv's just his mother's town, and his mother's getting old.

[Time]

[Drop]

They will laugh! They will laugh!

(Пошлі! Давай, давай!)

A thousand men with swords, and the prince is scared of a laugh.

They will laugh! So let them!

I put twenty men in the ground for a ring. Your men can laugh.

[Drop 2]

(Пошлі! Давай, давай!)

[Verse 3]

Nine sixty-eight. The Pechenegs around the walls. He's on the Danube, far.

Me inside with three grandsons: Yaropolk, Oleh, Volodymyr.

A boy swam the Dnipro with a bridle, shouting for his horse.

The relief came. Then my son came. Then he wanted to leave, of course.

I said: you see I'm ill, son. Where are you going? Bury me first.

Then ride to your Danube. Take your gold. Take your silk. Take your thirst.

The smallest at my knee was Volodymyr. He'll do what I couldn't do.

Give him nineteen years. The whole river. That's who.

[Outro]

They will laugh.

Bury me first. Then go.

[Fade Out]

[End]

[Intro]

Eleventh of July, nine sixty-nine. Kyiv. Heat on the river.

No feast for me. No mead on the mound. Gregory knows what to do.

[Verse 1]

I buried twenty men for a ring and five thousand for a cup.

Don't drink to me. Don't raise a mound. Let the priest speak, then that's enough.

[Verse 2]

My son stood dry-eyed. My grandsons cried. That's fine.

Yaropolk, Oleh, Volodymyr. One of the three is mine.

Nineteen years, Volodymyr. You'll bring the whole town to the water.

The Dnipro for a font. You'll finish what I started.

[Pre-Chorus]

Day-spring before the sun. That's what the monks will call me.

Moon by night in a dark land. The light's not mine. It's coming.

[Time]

[Drop]

No feast for me! No feast for me!

(Слава! Слава! Ура!)

I've seen enough of funerals to last eternity.

No feast for me! Just the priest!

The widow's debts are paid in full. Let the widow rest in peace.

[Drop 2]

(Слава! Слава! Ура!)

[Verse 3]

Thirty-eight years later my grandson dug me up, they say.

Not a mark on me. He laid me in his Tithe Church. Fine. I'll stay.

Twelve-forty: Batu's horsemen burned the city, tomb and all.

Fifteen forty-seven, Moscow: Equal to the Apostles. That's the call.

A widow with a boat, a bathhouse, a barrel and some birds.

Equal to the Apostles. I've been called worse.

Olha for the Drevlians. Helena at the font.

Saint for the ones who come after. Take whichever one you want.

[Outro]

No feast for me.

Day-spring. Then the sun.

[Fade Out]

[End]