The bronze Horseman / Медный всадник. Книга для чтения на английском языке

To right he walks, and sings a ditty;

To left he walks, and tells a tale…

What marvels there! A mermaid sitting

High in a tree, a sprite, a trail

Where unknown beasts move never seen by

Man’s eyes, a hut on chicken feet,

Without doors, without windows,

An evil witch’s lone retreat;

The woods and valleys there are teeming

With strange things… Dawn brings waves that, gleaming,

Over the sandy beaches creep,

And from the clear and shining water

Step thirty goodly knights escorted

By their Old Guardian, of the deep

An ancient dweller… There a dreaded

And hated tsar is captive ta’en;

There, as all watch, for cloud banks headed,

Across the sea and o’er a plain,

A warlock bears a knight.

A princess sits locked in a cell,

And Grey Wolf serves her very well;

There, in a mortar, onward sweeping

All of itself, beneath the skies

The wicked Baba-Yaga flies;

There pines Koshchei and lusts for gold…

All breathes of Russ, the Russ of old

There once was I, friends, and the СЃat

As near him ’neath the oak I sat

And drank of sweet mead at my leisure,

Recounted tales to me… With pleasure

One that I liked do I recall

And here and now will share with all…

Canto the First

The ways and deeds of days gone by,

A narrative on legend founded…

In princely banquet chamber high,

By doughty sons and guests surrounded,

Vladimir-Bright Sun holds a fete;

His daughter is the chosen mate

Of Prince Ruslan, and these two linking

In marriage, old Vladimir’s drinking

Their health, a handsome cup and great

To his lips held and fond thoughts thinking.

Our fathers ate ’thout haste-indeed,

Passed slowly round the groaning tables

The silver beakers were and ladles

With frothing ale filled and with mead.

Into the heart cheer poured they, truly…

The bearers, bowing, solemn-faced,

Before the feasters tankards placed;

High rose the foam and hissed, unruly…

The hum of talk is loud, unceasing;

Abuzz the guests: a merry round.

Then through the hubbub, all ears pleasing,

There comes the gusli’s rippling sound.

A hush. In dulcet song and ringing

Bayan, the bard – all hark him well —

Of bride and groom the praise is singing;

He lauds their union, gift of Lel[4 - Lel – the Slavic god of love (Translator’s note).].