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

Where had he come? For now he saw

The pillars of that lofty dwelling

Where, on the perron sentinelling,

Two lion-figures stand at guard

Like living things, keep watch and ward

With lifted paw. Upright and glooming,

Above the stony barrier looming,

The Image, with arm flung wide,

Sat on his brazen horse astride.[3 - See the description of the monument in Mickiewicz. It is borrowed from Ruban, as Mickiewicz himself observes (Pushkin’s note).]

And now Evgeny, with a shiver

Of terror, felt his reason clear.

He knew the place, for it was here

The flood had gamboled, here the river

Had surged; here, rioting in their wrath,

The wicked waves had swept a path

And with their tumult had surrounded

Evgeny, lions, square, – and Him

Who, moveless and aloft and dim,

Our city by the sea had founded,

Whose will was Fate. Appalling there

He sat begirt with and air.

What thoughts engrave his blow! What hidden

Power and authority he claims!

What fire in yonder charger flames!

Proud charger, whither art thou ridden,

Where leanest thou? And where, on whom,

Wilt plants thy hoof? – Ah, lord of doom

And potentate, �twas thus, appearing

Above the void, and in thy hold

A curb of iron, thou sat’st of old

O’er Russian, on her haunches rearing!

About the Image, at its base,

Poor mad Evgeny circled, straining

His wild gaze upward at the face

That once o’er half the world was reigning.

His eye was dimmed, cramped was his breast,

His brow on the cold grill was pressed,

While through his heart a flame was creeping

And in his veins the blood was leaping.

He halted sullenly beneath

The haughty Image, clenched his teeth

And clasped his hands, as though some devil

Possessed him, some dark, power of evil,

And shuddered, whispering angrily,

“Ay, architect, with thy creation

Of marvels… Ah, beware of me!”

And then, in wild precipitation

He fled.

For now he seemed to see

The awful Emperor, quietly,

With momentary anger burning,

His visage to Evgeny turning!

And rushing through the empty square,

He hears behind him as it were

Thunders that rattle in a chorus,

A gallop ponderous, sonorous,

That shakes the pavement.

Illumined by the pale moonlight,

With arm outflung, behind him riding

See, the bronze horseman comes, bestriding

The charger, clanging in his flight.