Competition of captains And suddenly over it the canopy of the tent, Shumya, unfolded with coolness; A sumptuous dinner in front of her; Bright crystal device; And in the silence from behind the branches Invisibly, the harp began to play. AS Pushkin "Ruslan and Lyudmila" What color are the crystals from which Chernomor's cutlery was made?

Spectator competition "In a world where the fire of the underworld became the sun, the city of the dark elves Menzoberranzan is spread, the pride of chaos, whose grandeur can only be compared with the baseness of its morals ..." Menzoberranzan ... At the end of each day, the Archmage appointed by the city lit a magical fire at the base of the stone pillar. The fire burned for a cycle equal to a complete change of day and night on the surface, gradually spreading its heat up the column until it flashed with a bright red light "Robert Salvatore" Dark Elf "

Task 2 At the same instant the whole room was filled with acrid black smoke and something like a silent explosion of great force threw Volka up to the ceiling ... At the same instant the whole room was filled with acrid black smoke and something like a silent explosion of great force threw Volka up to the ceiling ... L.I.Lagin. "Old Man Hottabych" What pressure can be created in a jug with old man Hottabych in it? Suggest safety measures when handling such a jug.

Quest 3 Mithril, the dream of the dwarves of the Northern World, the metal that brought wealth and glory to Moria, lay before them now - and was in their power. N. Perumov. "Elven Blade" Using the knowledge of modern chemistry, suggest a material that is closest in its properties to mithril. What technological processes can be used to produce combat weapons and armor from it?

Task 4 On what chemical and biochemical processes is the work of a fire-breathing dragon based? The dragon is the first grade! We saw him only from afar, but as if a magnificent beast. And, the Dragon is the first grade! We saw him only from a distance, but as if a magnificent beast. And, of course, evil as hell. In a word, the dragon is what you need. Even in deep sleep he spewed clouds of smoke. D.B. Priestley "June 31"

Task 5 And when the balloon swelled so that it seemed about to burst, Christopher Robin suddenly let go of the rope, and Winnie the Pooh smoothly flew up into the sky ... AA Milne. "Winnie the Pooh and all, all, all" Suggest a way to organize a flight of Winnie the Pooh in a balloon, using only the materials and equipment available in the forest.

Task 6 The chicken laid the testicle; not simple, but golden. The chicken took the testicle; not simple, but golden. Russian folk tale... "Ryaba Chicken" What minerals and rocks should be in the area where Ryaba Chicken lived? What biochemical processes underlie the assimilation of gold by the Pockmark chicken from the environment?

Task 7 And who would have believed that such a small pipe can pacify an entire rat army! S. Lagerlöf. " Wonderful journey Niels with wild geese ”The gnome overdid it and reduced Niels to a height of 1 micron. What should be the size of the pipe that could be used by such a Niels in the fight against the rat army. Suggest a way to create it.

Task 8 What modern methods can you use to get Excalibur out of stone? At the same time, it is advisable to keep both the sword and the stone unchanged for use as museum exhibits. What modern methods can be used to pull Excalibur out of the stone? At the same time, it is advisable to keep both the sword and the stone unchanged for use as museum exhibits. Whoever pulls this sword out of the stone is rightfully the king of Britain. Whoever pulls this sword out of the stone is rightfully the king of Britain. Medieval epic. "The Legends of King Arthur"

Task 9 What "mineral" did Baba Yaga offer to the General? How can you clean it from unwanted impurities? Suggest the best way to use this "mineral". Eat aspen bark - And you will cheer up for the time being: Tea is not chemistry, Tea is natural gifts! In the juice, General, There is a useful mineral, Not one of the Generals died from it! L. Filatov. "The tale of Fedot the archer, a daring fellow

Task 10 There is only one way: to get to Orodruin, the fatal mountain and throw the ring into its burning bowels, if you really want it to melt and become forever inaccessible to the enemy. There is only one way: to get to Orodruin, the doom mountain and toss the ring into its blazing bowels, if you really want it to melt and become forever inaccessible to the enemy. D.R.R. Tolkien. "The Lord of the Rings" What material and how could the "Rings of Sauron" be made, if they could be melted only in the bowels of the hottest volcano in Middle-earth? Can you destroy it using other methods?

Quest 11 ... and the permanent palaces Snow Queen- at the North Pole, on the island of Spitsbergen. H.-H. Andersen. "The Snow Queen" Currently, due to global warming, the Snow Queen's castle is under threat. Suggest a way to stabilize the Snow Queen's castle and protect it from melting.

Ruslan and Ludmila

1820

About the work

Ruslan and Lyudmila (1817-1820, printed in 1820, second revised edition - 1828) is Pushkin's fairy tale poem that brought him all-Russian fame.

Reviews from critics

Art that wants to please the beautiful must develop only noble feelings and most of all should not offend their bashfulness. The author of "Ruslan" could be liked by tenderness. He is quite adept at describing a variety of pictures. It is a great pity that he was too carried away by the imagination: magic is more capable of frightening him. Nowadays even children hardly read Persian and Arabian tales, for they no longer believe in flying carpets, and in Ruslan, miracles are just as incredible. But it is even more necessary to regret that he often presents such pictures in which it is impossible not to blush and not look down.<...>

While in France at the end of the last century works similar to this began to appear in great numbers, there was not only a decline in literature, but also in morality itself.

We wish our literature success and that writers and poets choose subjects worthy of their gifts. The goal of poetry is to elevate our spirit — pure pleasure. Pictures of voluptuousness captivate only coarse feelings. They are not worthy of the language of the gods. He must proclaim to us about the exploits of virtue, arouse love for the fatherland, heroism in misfortunes, captivate with the description of innocent fun. The subject of poetry is graceful. Depicting only this, talent deserves a tribute of just praise and surprise.

We often see that an essay inconsistent with reason, without a goal, contrary to nature, insignificant in subject matter, shameful in terms of the low pictures depicted in it, and an outburst of passions - appears in the light under the name of a great creation - and applause is heard everywhere ... Strange, amazing!

NI Kutuzov, "Son of the Fatherland", 1820.

"Ruslan and Lyudmila", in our opinion, is one of the best poetic works of Pushkin, it is a charming, eternally fresh, eternally fragrant flower in our poetry. In this creation, our poet, almost for the first time, spoke in a cheeky, free, fluid, sonorous, harmonious language ...

Anonymous, Galatea, 1839.

It is impossible to compare with anything the delight and indignation, excited by the first poem of Pushkin - "Ruslan and Lyudmila." Too few genius creations have managed to make as much noise as this childish and not in the least genius poem made. The champions of the new saw in her a colossal work, and for a long time after that they called Pushkin the funny title of the singer Ruslan and Lyudmila. Representatives of the other extreme, blind admirers of antiquity, venerable caps, were offended and enraged by the appearance of "Ruslan and Lyudmila". They saw in her everything that is not in her - almost atheism, and did not see in her anything that is in her, that is, good, sonorous poetry, intelligence, aesthetic taste and, in places, glimpses of poetry.<...>

The reason for the enthusiasm excited by "Ruslan and Lyudmila" was, of course, the premonition of a new world of creativity, which Pushkin discovered with all his first works; but even more it was simply a seduction by a novelty unprecedented before. Be that as it may, one cannot but understand and approve of such delight; Russian literature did not present anything like Ruslan and Lyudmila. Everything in this poem was new: verse, poetry, joke, and fairy-tale character along with serious pictures. But the furious indignation excited by Pushkin's fairy tale could not have been completely understood if we did not know about the existence of Old Believers, children of habit.

Striking is the complete coincidence of the "Tale of Rama" scheme with Pushkin's "Ruslan and Lyudmila" scheme (the sorcerer kidnaps his wife, the husband searches for the sorcerer, fights with him and returns his wife).

B.L.Smirnov. Introduction // Mahabharata III: Episodes from books III, V. Ashgabat, 1957.

Of course, we have no reason to believe that, through some kind of transposition or imitation, Pushkin was familiar with the "scheme" of the "Ramayana" (in early XIX in. in general, few specialists knew about the existence of the Sanskrit epic), but the similarity noted by Smirnov is quite obvious. And it is explained, apparently, by the fact that Pushkin created his poem using folklore plots (first of all, fairy tale folklore; cf. marked under No. 400, 300 and 301 in the well-known catalog of fairy tales by Aarne, Thompson (see: Aarne, Thompson 1961) tales about a wife abducted by the Serpent or Koshchei the Immortal, about a young man looking for a missing bride, about a snake-fighter hero), plots that are as popular as in Russia in Indian folklore.

P.A.Grinzer. "The First Poem" of Ancient India // Ramayana: Book 1: Balakanda (Book about childhood); Book 2 of Ayodhyakanda (Book of Ayodhya). M., 2006.

In the language of his first poem, using all the achievements of his predecessors - the accuracy and grace of the story in Dmitriev's poems, the poetic richness and melodiousness of intonations, the "captivating sweetness of Zhukovsky's poems," the plastic beauty of Batyushkov's images - Pushkin goes beyond them. He introduces into his text words, expressions and images of popular vernacular, which were resolutely avoided by the secular, salon poetry of his predecessors and were considered rude and unpoetic. Already in Ruslan and Lyudmila, Pushkin laid the foundation for the synthesis of various linguistic styles, which was his merit in the creation of the Russian literary language.

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Ruslan and Ludmila

The envious veil kisses
Beauties worthy of heaven
And the shoes are lightweight
Two legs, a wonder of wonders.
To the princess, the last maiden
The pearl belt serves.
Meanwhile, the invisible singer
She sings merry songs.
Alas, not the stones of the necklace,
Neither a sundress, nor a row of pearls,
Not a song of flattery and fun
Her souls are not amused;
In vain the mirror draws
Her beauty, her outfit:
Casting down a fixed gaze,
She is silent, she is yearning.

Those who, loving the truth,
On a dark heart they read
Of course they know about themselves
What if a woman is sad
Through tears, stealthily, somehow,
In spite of habit and reason,
Forgets to look in the mirror, -
That is sad for her in earnest.

But now Lyudmila is alone again.
Not knowing what to start, she
He comes to the window with a trellis,
And her gaze wanders sadly
In the space of a cloudy distance.
Everything is dead. Snow plains
The carpets were bright;
Stand the gloomy mountains tops
In monotonous whiteness
And doze in eternal silence;
You can't see the smoky roof all around
You can't see the traveler in the snow,
And the sonorous horn of merry fishing
In the deserted mountains it does not blow;
Only occasionally with a dull whistle
A whirlwind riots in a clean field
And at the edge of gray skies
Shakes the naked forest.

In tears of despair, Lyudmila
She covered her face in horror.
Alas, what awaits her now!
Runs through the silver door;
She opened with music,
And our maiden found herself
In the garden. Captivating Limit:
More beautiful than the gardens of Armida
And those that he owned
Tsar Solomon il prince of Taurida.
Before her they waver, rustle
Magnificent Dubrovy;
Avenues of palm trees, and a laurel forest,
And a number of fragrant myrtle,
And proud peaks of cedars,
And golden oranges
By the mirror of the waters are reflected;
Hills, groves and valleys
Springs are revived by fire;
May wind blows with coolness
Among the enchanted fields
And the Chinese nightingale whistles
In the darkness of trembling branches;
Diamond fountains fly
With a cheerful noise to the clouds:
Under them idols shine
And, it seems, are alive; Phidias himself,
Pet of Phoebus and Pallas,
Admiring them finally
Its charmed cutter
I would drop it out of my hands with annoyance.
Crushing on marble barriers,
Pearl, fiery arc
Falls, waterfalls splash;
And streams in the shade of the forest
Slightly curl like a sleepy wave.
Shelter of peace and coolness,
Through eternal greenery here and there
Light gazebos flicker;
Living branches everywhere
Blossom and breathe along the trails.
But inconsolable Lyudmila
He walks, walks and does not look;
The luxury of magic has become hateful to her,
She is sad bliss light appearance;
Where, without knowing herself, she wanders,
The magic garden goes around
Freedom to bitter tears
And erects gloomy gaze
To the unforgiving skies
Suddenly a beautiful gaze lit up:
She pressed her finger to her lips;
It seemed terrible intent
Born ... The terrible path is open:
High bridge over the stream
Hangs in front of her on two rocks;
In the gloom heavy and deep
She comes up - and in tears
Looked at the noisy waters,
Hit, sobbing, in the chest,
I decided to drown in the waves -
However, she did not jump into the water.
And she continued on her way.

My beautiful Lyudmila,
Running in the sun in the morning
Tired, dried my tears
In my heart I thought: it's time!
She sat down on the grass, looked back -
And suddenly over her the canopy of the tent,
Noisy, turned around with coolness;
A sumptuous dinner in front of her;
Bright crystal device;
And in silence from behind the branches
The harp began to play invisibly.
The captive princess marvels,
But secretly she thinks:
“Far from the dear, in captivity,
Why should I live in the world Bole?
Oh you, whose disastrous passion
It torments and cherishes me
I am not afraid of the villain power:
Lyudmila knows how to die!
I don't need your tents
No boring songs, no feasts -
I won't eat, I won't listen
I will die among your gardens! "

The princess gets up, and in an instant the tent,
And a lush luxury device,
And the sounds of the harp ... everything was gone;
As before, everything became quiet;
Lyudmila alone in the gardens again
Wandering from grove to grove;
Meanwhile in the azure skies
The moon floats, queen of the night
Finds haze on all sides
And quietly rested on the hills;
The princess involuntarily tends to sleep,
And suddenly an unknown force
Tender than a spring breeze
It lifts her into the air
Carries through the air to the palace
And gently lowers
Through the incense of evening roses
On a bed of sadness, a bed of tears.
Three maidens instantly appeared again
And they fussed around her,
To take off a magnificent dress at night;
But their dull, dim gaze
And the forced silence
Showed compassion in secret
And a feeble reproach to fate.
But let's hurry: with their tender hand
The sleepy princess is undressed;
Delightful with careless beauty,
In one white shirt
She lies down to rest.
With a sigh the maidens bowed,
Get away as soon as possible
And they quietly closed the door.
Well, our captive now!
Trembles like a leaf, does not dare to die;
Percy grow cold, eyes darken;
Instant sleep flees from the eyes;
Doesn't sleep, I doubled my attention,
Stares motionless into the darkness ...
Everything is gloomy, dead silence!
Only the heart hears the flutter ...
And hesitates ... the silence whispers,
They go - go to her bed;
The princess is hiding in the pillows -
And suddenly ... oh fear! .. and indeed
There was a noise; illuminated
With an instant brilliance, the darkness of the night,
Instantly the door is open;
Silently, proudly speaking,
Glittering with naked sabers,
Arapov goes a long row
In pairs, as decorously as possible,
And carefully on the pillows
Bears a gray beard;
And he enters with importance behind her,
Raising his neck majestically,
Humpback dwarf out of doors:
His shaved head,
Covered with a tall hood,
The beard belonged.
Already he approached: then
The princess jumped out of bed,
Gray-haired Karl for the cap
With a quick hand I grabbed
Trembling raised her fist
And screeched in fear
That all the araps were stunned.
Trembling, the poor man crumpled,
The frightened princess is paler;
Covering your ears quickly
I wanted to run, but in a beard
Tangled, fell and beats;
Gets up, fell; in such trouble
Arapov the black swarm is crumpled;
Noise, push, run,
Grab the sorcerer by the arm
And they are carrying them to unravel,
Leaving Lyudmila's hat.

But something our good knight?
Do you remember the unexpected meeting?
Take your quick pencil
Draw, Orlovsky, night and smash!
By the light of the quivering moon
The knights fought fiercely;
Their hearts are cramped by anger,
Spears have been thrown far away
The swords are already shattered
Chain mails are covered with blood,
Shields are cracking, broken into pieces ...
They grappled on their horses;
Exploding black dust to the sky,
Under them the horses are fighting greyhounds;
Fighters, motionless entwined,
Squeezing each other, they remain,
As if nailed to the saddle;
Their members are reduced by malice;
Intertwined and stiffened;
Fast fire runs through the veins;
On the enemy's chest, the chest trembles -
And now they hesitate, weaken -
Someone will fall ... suddenly my knight,
With a boil, with an iron hand
Tears the rider off the saddle,
Rise, holds over itself
And throws it into the waves from the shore.
“Die! - exclaims menacingly; -
Die, my evil envious! "

You guessed, my reader,
Who the valiant Ruslan fought with:
It was a seeker of bloody battles,
Rogdai, the hope of the people of Kiev,
Lyudmila is a gloomy admirer.
It is along the Dnieper banks
Was looking for a rival footprints;
Found, overtook, but the same strength
I changed the battle pet,
And Russia is an ancient dandy
I found my end in the desert.
And it was heard that Rogdaya
Young mermaid of those waters
Percy took it cold
And, greedily kissing the knight,
She carried me to the bottom with laughter,
And long after, on a dark night
Wandering near the quiet shores
The giant's ghost is huge
Scared the desert fishermen.

Dedication

For you, the soul of my queen,
Beauties, for you alone
Times of fables bygone,
In golden leisure hours,
Under the whisper of chatty old times,
With the right hand I wrote;
Accept my playful work!
No one demanding praise,
I am happy with the sweet hope,
That a virgin with a thrill of love
Looks, maybe furtively
To my sinful songs.

Song one

By the side of the sea, a green oak,
Golden chain on tom oak:
And day and night the cat is a scientist
Everything goes round and round in chains;
Goes to the right - the song starts
To the left - he says a fairy tale.

There are miracles: there the devil wanders,
The mermaid sits on the branches;
There on unknown paths
Traces of unseen beasts;
The hut is there on chicken legs
Stands without windows, without doors;
There the forest and the valley are full of visions;
There the waves will rush about the dawn
On a sandy and empty shore,
And thirty beautiful knights;
In succession, clear waters come out,
And their uncle is with them the sea;
There the prince in passing
Captivates the formidable king;
There in the clouds in front of the people
Through forests, across seas
The sorcerer carries the hero;
In the dungeon there the princess grieves,
And the brown wolf serves her faithfully;
There is a stupa with Baba Yaga
Goes, wanders by itself;
There, Tsar Kashchei languishes over gold;
There is a Russian spirit ... there is a smell of Russia!
And there I was, and I drank honey;
By the sea I saw a green oak;
He sat under him, and the cat is a scientist
He told me his tales.
I remember one: this fairy tale
Now I will tell the light ...

The deeds of days gone by
The legends of deep antiquity.

In a crowd of mighty sons
With friends, in a high gridnitsa
Vladimir the sun was feasting;
The youngest daughter he gave
For the brave prince Ruslan
And honey from a heavy glass
He drank to their health.
Our ancestors did not eat soon,
Didn't move around soon
Ladles, silver bowls
With boiling beer and wine.
They poured joy in their hearts,
Foam hissed around the edges
Their important cups were worn
And bowed low to the guests.

The speeches merged into an indistinct noise:
A cheerful circle buzzes guests;
But suddenly a pleasant voice rang out
And the ringing gusli fugitive sound;
Everyone fell silent, listening to Bayan:
And praises the sweet singer
Ludmila-charm and Ruslana
And Lelem's wreath twisted by him.

But, exhausted by ardent passion,
Ruslan does not eat, does not drink;
Looks at a dear friend,
Sighs, gets angry, burns
And, pinching a mustache with impatience,
Counts every moment.
In despondency, with a gloomy brow,
At a noisy wedding table
Three young knights are sitting;
Silent, behind an empty bucket,
Forgot the circular cups
And brishna is unpleasant to them;
Do not hear the prophetic Bayan;
They lowered their embarrassed gaze:
Those are three rivals of Ruslan;
In the soul, the unfortunate conceal
Love and hate are poison.
Odin - Rogdai, brave warrior,
Expanding the limits with the sword
Rich Kiev fields;
The other is Farlaf, the arrogant shouter,
In feasts, not defeated by anyone,
But a humble warrior among swords;
The last, full of passionate thought,
Young Khazar Khan Ratmir:
All three are pale and sullen
And a merry feast is not a feast for them.

Here it is finished; stand in rows
Mingled in noisy crowds
And everyone looks at the young:
The bride lowered her eyes,
As if my heart was depressed,
And the joyful groom was shining.
But the shadow embraces all nature,
Already close to midnight deaf;
Boyars, dozing off from honey,
With a bow, they went home.
The groom is delighted, intoxicated:
He caresses in imagination
A shy virgin beauty;
But with a secret, sad tenderness
Grand Duke blessing
Grants a young couple.

And here is the young bride
They lead to the marriage bed;
The lights went out ... and the night
Lel lights the lamp.
Sweet hopes have come true
Gifts are being prepared for love;
Jealous clothes will fall
On carpets in Constantinople ...
Can you hear the whisper in love
And kisses sweet sound
And an intermittent murmur
The last shyness? ... Spouse
Delight feels beforehand;
And then they came ... Suddenly
Thunder struck, light flashed in the fog,
The lamp goes out, the smoke runs,
Everything was getting dark all around, everything was trembling,
And the soul froze in Ruslan. ... ...
Everything was silent. In the terrible silence
A strange voice rang out twice,
And someone in the smoky depths
Soared up blacker than foggy mist.
And again the tower is empty and quiet;
The frightened groom gets up,
Cold sweat rolls down from my face;
Trembling with a cold hand
He asks the mute darkness ...
About grief: there is no dear friend!
Grabbing the air, it is empty;
Lyudmila is not in the thick darkness,
Kidnapped by an unknown force.

Ah, if the martyr of love
Suffering hopelessly with passion;
Though it's sad to live, my friends,
However, it is still possible to live.
But after long, long years
Hug your girlfriend in love
Desires, tears, longing thing,
And suddenly a minute spouse
To lose forever ... oh friends,
Of course I'd rather die!

However, the unfortunate Ruslan is alive.
But what did the Grand Duke say?
Struck suddenly by a terrible rumor,
Become angry with your son-in-law,
He convenes him and the court:
"Where, where is Lyudmila?" - asks
With a terrible, fiery brow.
Ruslan does not hear. “Children, friends!
I remember past achievements:
Oh, have mercy on the old man!
Tell me which one of you agrees
To chase my daughter?
Whose feat will not be in vain
To that - be tormented, cry, villain!
I could not save my wife! -
To that I will give her as a spouse
With the kingdom of my great-grandfathers.
Who will be called, children, friends? .. "
“I,” said the woeful groom.
"I! I!" - exclaimed with Rogday
Farlaf and joyful Ratmir:
“Now we saddle our horses;
We are glad to travel all over the world.
Our father, let us not prolong the separation;
Do not be afraid: we are going after the princess. "
And gratefully dumb
In tears, he stretches out his hands to them
An old man worn out by anguish.

All four go out together;
Ruslan was killed in despondency;
The thought of the lost bride
He is tormented and dead.
They sit on zealous horses;
Happy along the banks of the Dnieper
Are flying in the swirling dust;
Already hiding in the distance;
The riders are no longer visible ...
But still looks for a long time
Grand Duke in an empty field
And the thought flies after them.

Ruslan languished in silence,
And losing the meaning and memory.
Looking over my shoulder haughtily
And it is important to move a little, Farlaf
Puffing up he drove after Ruslan.
He says: “I will force
Got free, friends!
Well, will I soon meet the giant?
The blood will flow
Already the victims of jealous love!
Have fun my trusty sword
Have fun, my zealous horse! "

Khazar Khan, in his mind
Already hugging Lyudmila,
Barely dancing over the saddle;
Young blood plays in him,
The eyes are full of hope;
Then he rides at full speed,
That teases the dashing runner,
Spins, rears up,
Or daringly rushes up the hills again.

Rogdai is gloomy, silent - not a word.
Fearing an unknown fate
And tormented by vain jealousy,
He is the most worried
And often his gaze is terrible
Darkly directed at the prince.

Rivals on the same road
They all drive together all day.
The bank of the Dnieper became dark and sloping;
From the east, a shadow pours into the night;
Fogs over the deep Dnieper;
It's time for their horses to rest.
Here is a wide path under the mountain
The wide path crossed.
“Let's break apart, poopa! - said
Let us entrust ourselves to the unknown fate ”.
And every horse, not feeling steel,
I chose the path for myself.

What are you doing, unhappy Ruslan,
Alone in desolate silence?
Lyudmila, wedding day is terrible,
Everything, it seems, you saw in a dream.
Pulling a brass helmet over his eyebrows,
Leaving the bridle from powerful hands,
You walk between the fields at a step
And slowly in your soul
Hope dies, faith dies out.

But suddenly before the knight the cave
There is light in the cave. He's straight to her
Goes under the dormant vaults,
Contemporaries of nature itself.
He entered with despondency: what are you looking at?
There is an old man in the cave; clear view,
Calm gaze, gray-haired brada;
The lamp in front of him is burning;
He sits at an ancient book,
Reading it carefully.
“Welcome, my son! -
He said with a smile to Ruslan:
I've been here alone for twenty years
I fade in the darkness of old life;
But finally waited for the day
Long foreseen by me,
We are brought together by fate;
Sit down and listen to me.
Ruslan, you have lost Lyudmila;
Your firm spirit is losing strength;
But evil will rush by a quick moment:
For a while, fate has comprehended you.
With hope, cheerful faith
Go to everything, do not be discouraged;
Forward! with a sword and a bold chest
Make your way at midnight.

Find out, Ruslan: your offender -
The terrible wizard Chernomor,
Beauties are a longtime kidnapper,
Full-night holder of the mountains.
Still no one's in his abode
Hitherto did not penetrate the gaze;
But you, the destroyer of evil intrigues,
You will enter into it, and the villain
Will perish by your hand.
I shouldn't tell you anymore:
The fate of your coming days
My son, from now on it is in your will ”.

Our knight to the elder fell at his feet
And in joy he kisses his hand.
The world brightens up his eyes,
And the heart forgot the torment.
He revived again; and suddenly again
On the flushed face there is a ruin ...
“The reason for your melancholy is clear;
But sadness is not difficult to disperse, -
The old man said: you are terrible
Love of a gray-haired sorcerer;
Calm down, know: it is in vain
And the young maiden is not afraid.
He brings the stars from the sky,
He whistles - the moon will tremble;
But against the time of the law
His science is not strong.
Jealous, quivering keeper
Locks of merciless doors
He is only a feeble tormentor
Her lovely captive.
He wanders around her in silence,
Curses his cruel lot ...
But, good knight, the day passes,
And you need peace. "

Ruslan lays down on soft moss
Before a dying fire;
He seeks to be forgotten by sleep,
Sighs, turns slowly ..
In vain! Vityaz finally:
“Something is not sleeping, my father!
What to do: I am sick in soul,
And a dream is not a dream, how sickening to live.
Let me refresh my heart
By your holy conversation.
Forgive me the impudent question
Open up: who are you, blessed
An incomprehensible confidant of fate,
Who brought you into the desert? "

Sighing with a sad smile,
The old man answered: “my dear son,
I have forgotten my distant homeland
Gloomy edge. Natural Finn,
In the valleys, we only know,
Driving the herd of villages around,
In my carefree youth, I knew
Some dense oak forests,
Streams, caves of our rocks
Yes, wild poverty is fun.
But live in gratifying silence
It was not given to me for long.

Then near our village,
Like a cute color of solitude
Naina lived. Between girlfriends
She thundered with beauty.
One morning at times
Your herds on a dark meadow
I drove, inflating the bagpipes;
There was a stream in front of me.
Alone, beautiful young
Weaved a wreath on the shore.
I was attracted by my destiny ...
Ah, knight, that was Naina!
I go to her - and the fatal flame
For a daring look I was a reward,
And I learned love with my soul
With her heavenly joy,
With her excruciating longing.

Half a year ran away;
I opened up to her with trepidation
Said: I love you, Naina.
But my timid sorrow
Naina listened with pride,
Only loving your charms,
And she answered indifferently:
"Shepherd, I do not love you!"

And everything is wild to me, it became gloomy:
Native bush, shadow of oak trees,
The games of the shepherds are merry -
Nothing comforted the melancholy.
In despondency, the heart was dry, sluggish.
And finally I thought
Leave the Finnish fields;
The seas of the unfaithful abyss
Swim across the fraternal retinue,
And deserve swearing glory
Naina's proud attention.
I summoned the brave fishermen
Look for dangers and gold.
For the first time the quiet land of fathers
I heard the abusive sound of damask steel
And the noise of non-peaceful shuttles.
I sailed into the distance, full of hope,
With a crowd of fearless fellow countrymen;
We are ten years of snow and waves
Crimson with the blood of enemies.
Rumor rushed: the kings of a foreign land
They feared my insolence;
Their proud squads
The northern swords fled.
We were merrily, we fought menacingly,
Shared tributes and gifts,
And they sat down with the vanquished
For friendly feasts.
But a heart full of Naina
Under the noise of battle and feasts,
Languished in a secret ruse,
I was looking for the Finnish shores.
It's time to go home, I said, friends!
We'll hang idle chain mail
Under the canopy of a native hut.
He said - and the oars rustled;
And leaving fear behind
To the bay of the fatherland, dear
We flew in with proud joy.

Long-standing dreams have come true
Ardent desires have come true!
A minute of sweet goodbye
And you flashed for me!
At the feet of the haughty beauty
I brought a bloody sword,
Corals, gold and pearls;
Before her, intoxicated with passion,
A silent swarm surrounded
Her envious friends
I was an obedient prisoner,
But the maiden hid from me
Saying with an air of indifference:
“Hero, I don’t love you!”

Why tell, my son,
What is there no strength to retell?
Ah, and now alone, alone
Asleep in my soul, at the door of the grave,
I remember sorrow, and sometimes,
How about the past a thought will be born,
On my gray beard
A heavy tear rolls down.

But listen: in my homeland
Between the desert fishermen
Wondrous science lurks.
Under the roof of eternal silence
Among the forests, in the backwoods of the distant
Gray-haired sorcerers live;
To the subjects of high wisdom
All their thoughts are directed;
Everything hears their terrible voice,
What was and what will be again
And they are subject to their formidable will
And the coffin and love itself.

And I, a greedy seeker of love,
Made up my mind in joyless sadness
Naina to attract
And in the proud heart of the cold maiden
Ignite love with magic.
Hastened to the arms of freedom
Into the secluded gloom of the woods;
And there, in the teachings of sorcerers,
Spent unseen years
The long desired moment has come
And the secret of a terrible nature
I comprehended with a bright thought:
I learned the power of spells.
The crown of love, the crown of desires!
Now, Naina, you are mine!
Our victory, I thought.
But really the winner
There was fate, my stubborn persecutor.

In the dreams of a young hope
Delighted with ardent desire,
Hastily casting spells
I call the spirits - and in the darkness of the forest
A thunderous arrow rushed,
A magical whirlwind raised a howl,
The ground shuddered underfoot ...
And suddenly sits in front of me
The old woman is decrepit, gray-haired,
With sunken eyes sparkling,
With a hump, with a shaking head,
A sad dilapidation picture.
Ah, knight, that was Naina! ..
I was horrified and silent,
A terrible ghost measured with his eyes,
I still didn't believe in doubts
And suddenly he began to cry, shouted:
Perhaps eh! ah, Naina, are you!
Naina, where is your beauty?
Tell me is heaven
Have you been so terribly changed?
Tell me, for a long time, leaving the light,
Have I parted with my soul and my sweetheart?
How long has it been? .. “Exactly forty years, -
The virgin's fatal answer was: -
Today seventy beat me.
What to do, - she beeps to me, -
Years flew by in a crowd
My, your spring has passed -
We both got older.
But, friend, listen: it doesn't matter
Loss of unfaithful youth.
Of course I'm gray now
A little hunchback, maybe;
Not that it was in the old days,
Not so alive, not so sweet;
But (added the chatterbox)
I will reveal a secret: I am a witch! "

And it was indeed so.
Dumb, motionless in front of her,
I was a perfect fool
With all my wisdom.

But that's awful: witchcraft
It was completely accomplished by misfortune.
My gray-haired deity
A new passion burned for me.
With a scary mouth twisted into a smile,
A grave voice freak
Mumbles a declaration of love to me.
Imagine my suffering!
I trembled, looking down;
Through her cough she continued
Heavy, passionate conversation:
“So, now I recognized the heart;
I see, faithful friend, it
Born for tender passion;
Feelings woke up, I'm burning
I yearn for the desires of love ...
Come into my arms ...
Oh dear, dear! dying ... "

And meanwhile she, Ruslan,
Blinked with languid eyes;
And meanwhile for my caftan
Held on with skinny hands;
And meanwhile - I was dying,
From horror, closing my eyes;
And suddenly there was no need to endure urine;
I broke free with a cry, ran.
She followed: “Oh, unworthy!
You angered my calm century
The days are clear to the innocent virgin!
You have achieved the love of Naina,
And you despise - here are the men!
They all breathe treason!
Alas, blame yourself;
He seduced me, wretched!
I gave myself to passionate love. ..
Traitor, monster! oh shame!
But tremble, maiden thief! "

So we parted. From now on
I live in my solitude
With a disappointed soul;
And in the world there is consolation for the elder
Nature, wisdom and peace.
The grave is already calling me;
But the feelings are the same
The old woman has not forgotten yet
And the flame of late love
From annoyance to anger turned.
With a black soul loving evil,
The witch is old of course
Will hate you too;
But grief on earth is not eternal. ”

Our knight eagerly listened
The elder's tales: eyes are clear
I did not close with an easy nap
And the quiet flight of the night
In deep thought did not hear.
But the day is shining radiant ...
With a sigh, the knight is grateful
Encompasses the old man-sorcerer;
The soul is full of hope;
Comes out. I squeezed my feet
Ruslan of a rusty horse,
He recovered in the saddle and whistled.
"My father, do not leave me."
And gallops across an empty meadow.
Gray-haired sage to a young friend
Shouts after: “happy way!
I'm sorry, love your spouse
Do not forget the old man's advice! "

Second song

Rivals in the art of abuse
Do not know peace among yourself;
Bring tribute to the gloomy glory,
And revel in the enmity!
Let the world freeze before you
Marveling at the formidable celebrations:
No one will regret you
Nobody will bother you.
Rivals of a different kind
You knights of the Parnassian mountains,
Try not to make people laugh
By the immodest noise of your quarrels;
Swear - just be careful.
But you rivals in love
Live together, if you can!
Trust me my friends:
To whom fate is indispensable
A girl's heart is destined
He will be nice to the evil of the universe;
It is stupid and sinful to be angry.

When Rogdai is indomitable,
Tormented by a deaf presentiment,
Leaving their companions,
Set off to a solitary land
And rode between the forest deserts,
Plunged into deep thought
The evil spirit disturbed and confused
His yearning soul
And the gloomy knight whispered:
“I will kill! .. I will destroy all obstacles! ..
Ruslan! .. you recognize me ...
Now the girl will cry ... "
And suddenly, turning the horse,
He gallops back at full speed.

At that time, the valiant Farlaf,
Sleeping sweetly all morning
Sheltered from the rays of half a day,
By the stream, alone
To strengthen the strength of the soul,
I dined in peaceful silence.
Suddenly, he sees: someone in the field,
Like a storm, rides on a horse;
And, without wasting more time,
Farlaf, leaving his lunch,
Spear, chain mail, helmet, gloves
Jumped into the saddle and without looking back
Flies - and he followed him.
“Stop, you dishonorable fugitive! -
An unknown person shouts to Farlaf. -
Despicable, let me catch up!
Let me rip your head off! ”
Farlaf, recognizing the voice of Rogdai,
Writhing out of fear, I died,
And, waiting for certain death,
He drove the horse even faster.
So the hare is hasty,
Pressing ears fearfully
Over bumps, fields, through forests
It rushes in jumps from the dog.
At the site of a glorious escape
In the spring of melted snow
Muddy streams flowed
And dug the wet chest of the earth.
A zealous horse rushed to the moat,
He flapped his tail and white mane,
Steel reins bitten
And jumped over the moat;
But the timid rider upside down
Fell heavily into a muddy ditch,
I did not see the earth from the heavens
And he was ready to accept death.
Rogdai flies up to the ravine;
The cruel sword is already brought up;
“Die, coward! die! " broadcasts ...
Suddenly he recognizes Farlaf;
Looks, and hands dropped;
Annoyance, amazement, anger
In his features are depicted;
Gritting my teeth, numb,
Hero with drooping head
Hurry away from the ditch,
Furious ... but barely, barely
I didn't laugh at myself.

Then he met under the mountain
The old woman is a little bit alive,
Humpbacked, completely gray-haired.
She's a road hook
She pointed him north.
“You’ll find him there,” she said.
Rogdai boiled with fun
And flew to certain death.

And our Farlaf? I stayed in the ditch
Not daring to breathe; inwardly
He, lying down, thought: Am I alive?
Where has the evil rival gone?
Suddenly he hears right above him
The old woman's voice is grave:
“Stand up, well done: everything is quiet in the field,
You will not meet anyone more;
I brought you a horse;
Get up, obey me. "

The embarrassed knight inevitably
Crawling left a dirty ditch;
Timidly looking around the neighborhood,
He sighed and said, coming to life:
"Well, thank God I'm healthy!"

“Believe it! - the old woman continued: -
It is tricky to find Lyudmila;
She has run far;
You and I can't get it.
It is dangerous to drive around the world;
You really won't be happy yourself.
Follow my advice
Go back quietly.
Near Kiev, in solitude,
In his ancestral village
Better stay without worries:
Lyudmila will not leave us ”.

Having said, she disappeared. In impatience
Our prudent hero
I went home immediately,
Sincerely forgetting about the glory
And even about the young princess;
And the slightest noise in the oak forest,
The flight of the titmouse, the murmur of the waters
He was thrown into heat and sweat.

Meanwhile Ruslan is racing far;
In the wilderness of the woods, in the wilderness of the fields
Aspires to the habitual thought
To Lyudmila, her joy,
And he says: “Will I find a friend?
Where are you, my husband's soul?
Will I see your bright gaze?
Will I hear a gentle conversation?
Or is it destined that the sorcerer
You were an eternal prisoner
And, as a mournful virgin growing old,
Has it bloomed in the gloomy dungeon?
Or a daring rival
Will he come? .. No, no, my friend is priceless!
Even with me my faithful sword,
The chapter has not yet fallen from the shoulders. "

Once, in the dark at times,
Along the stones the steep coast
Our knight rode over the river.
Everything died down. Suddenly behind him
Arrows instant buzz,
Chain mail ringing and shouting and neighing
And the stomp across the field is dull.
"Stop!" a thunderous voice rang out.
He looked back: in a clean field,
Raising a spear, flies with a whistle
A ferocious rider, and a thunderstorm
The prince rushed to meet him.
“Aha! caught up with you! wait! -
The daring rider shouts: -
Get ready, friend, I will slash to death;
Now lie down in the midst of these places;
Look for your brides there. ”
Ruslan flushed, shuddered with anger;
He recognizes this violent voice ...

My friends! and our virgin?
Let's leave the knights for an hour;
I will remember about them again soon.
Otherwise, it would be high time for me
Think about the young princess
And about the terrible Chernomor.

Of my freaky dream
The confidant is sometimes immodest,
I told how the night is dark
Lyudmila of gentle beauty
From the inflamed Ruslan
They suddenly disappeared among the fog.
Unhappy! when the villain
With your mighty hand
Having ripped you out of the marriage bed,
Soared like a whirlwind to the clouds
Through heavy smoke and gloomy air
And suddenly he sped off to his mountains -
You lost your feelings and memory
And in the terrible castle of the sorcerer,
Silent, trembling, pale,
In an instant I found myself.

From the threshold of my hut
So I saw, in the middle of summer days,
When behind a cowardly chicken
The haughty henhouse sultan,
My rooster ran through the yard
And voluptuous wings
I already hugged my girlfriend;
Above them in sly circles
The chickens of the village are an old thief,
Taking disastrous measures
The gray kite swam
And fell like lightning into the yard.
Soared, flies. In the claws of the terrible
Into the darkness of the crevices of the safe
Carries away the poor villain.
In vain, with their sorrow
And amazed by cold fear,
The rooster is calling his mistress. ..
All he sees is flying fluff
Driven by a flying wind.

Until the morning, the young princess
Lied, painful oblivion,
As if in a terrible dream,
Embraced - at last she
I woke up, with fiery excitement
And full of vague horror;
Soul flies for pleasure
He is looking for someone with ecstasy;
"Where is the dear, - whispers, - where is the spouse?"
Calls and suddenly died.
Looks around with fear.
Lyudmila, where is your svetlitsa?
The unfortunate girl lies
Among the down pillows
Under the proud shade of the canopy;
Curtains, lush feather bed
In brushes, in expensive patterns;
Brocade fabrics are everywhere;
The yachons are playing like heat;
All around are golden incense burners
Raise aromatic steam;
Enough ... well, I don't need
Describe a magical house;
It's been a long time since Scheherazade
I was warned that.
But the bright tower is not a joy,
When we don't see a friend in him.

Three virgins, wonderful beauty,
Wearing light and lovely clothes
The princess came, came
And they bowed to the ground.
Then with inaudible steps
One came closer;
Princess air fingers
Braided a golden braid
With art, not new these days,
And she wrapped a pearl wreath
The circumference of the pale brow.
Behind her, modestly bowing his gaze,
Then another approached;
Azure, lush sundress
Odel Lyudmila slender stan;
Covered with golden curls,
Both the chest and the shoulders are young
A veil as transparent as fog.
The envious veil kisses
Beauties worthy of heaven
And the shoes are lightweight
Two legs, a wonder of wonders.
To the princess, the last maiden
The pearl belt feeds.
Meanwhile, the invisible singer
She sings merry songs to her.
Alas, not the stones of the necklace,
Neither a sundress, nor a row of pearls,
Not a song of flattery and fun
Her souls are not amused;
In vain the mirror draws
Her beauty, her outfit;
Casting down a fixed gaze,
She is silent, she is yearning.

Those who, loving the truth,
On a dark heart they read
Of course they know about themselves
What if a woman is sad
Through tears, furtively, somehow,
To the evil of habit and reason,
Forgets to look in the mirror -
That is sad for her in earnest.

But now Lyudmila is alone again.
Not knowing what to start, she
He comes to the window with a trellis,
And her gaze wanders sadly
In the space of a cloudy distance.
Everything is dead. Snow plains
The carpets were bright;
Stand the gloomy mountains tops
In monotonous whiteness
And doze in eternal silence;
You can't see the smoky roof all around
You can't see the traveler in the snow,
And the sonorous horn of merry catching
In the deserted mountains it does not blow;
Only occasionally with a dull whistle
A whirlwind riots in a clean field
And at the edge of gray skies
Shakes the naked forest.

In tears of despair, Lyudmila
She covered her face in horror.
Alas, what awaits her now!
Runs through the silver door;
She opened with music,
And our maiden found herself
In the garden. Captivating Limit:
More beautiful than the gardens of Armida
And those that he owned
Tsar Solomon il prince of Taurida.
Before her they waver, rustle
Magnificent Dubrovy;
Avenues of palm trees and a laurel forest,
And a number of fragrant myrtle,
And proud peaks of cedars,
And golden oranges
By the mirror of the waters are reflected;
Hills, groves and valleys
Springs are revived by fire;
May wind blows with coolness
Among the enchanted fields
And the Chinese nightingale whistles
In the darkness of trembling branches;
Diamond fountains fly
With a merry noise to the clouds;
Under them idols shine
And, it seems, are alive; Phidias himself,
Pet of Phoebus and Pallas,
Admiring them finally
Its charmed cutter
I would drop it out of my hands with annoyance.
Crushing on marble barriers,
Pearl, fiery arc
Falls, waterfalls splash;
And streams in the shade of the forest
Slightly curl like a sleepy wave.
Shelter of peace and coolness,
Through eternal greenery here and there
Light gazebos flicker;
Living branches everywhere
Blossom and breathe along the trails.
But inconsolable Lyudmila
He walks, walks and does not look;
The luxury of magic has become hateful to her,
She is sad bliss light appearance;
Where, without knowing herself, she wanders,
The magic garden goes around
Freedom to bitter tears
And erects gloomy gaze
To the unforgiving skies
Suddenly a beautiful gaze lit up;
She pressed her finger to her lips;
It seemed terrible intent
Born ... The terrible path is open:
High bridge over the stream
Hangs in front of her on two rocks;
In the gloom heavy and deep
She comes up - and in tears
Looked at the noisy waters,
Hit, sobbing, in the chest,
I decided to drown in the waves
However, she did not jump into the water.
And she continued on her way.

My beautiful Lyudmila,
Running in the sun in the morning
Tired, dried up my tears,
In my heart I thought: it's time!
She sat down on the grass, looked back -
And suddenly over her the canopy of the tent,
Noisy, with coolness unfolded
A sumptuous dinner in front of her;
Bright crystal device;
And in silence from behind the branches
The harp began to play invisibly.
The captive princess marvels,
But secretly she thinks:
“Far from the dear, in captivity,
Why should I live in the world Bole?
Oh you, whose disastrous passion
It torments and cherishes me
I am not afraid of the villain power,
Lyudmila knows how to die!
I don't need your tents
No boring songs, no feasts -
I won't eat, I won't listen
I will die among your gardens! "
I thought - and began to eat.

The princess gets up, and in a moment the tent,
And a lush luxury device,
And the sounds of the harp ... everything was gone;
As before, everything became quiet;
Lyudmila alone in the gardens again
Wandering from grove to grove;
Meanwhile in the azure skies
The moon is floating, the queen of the night,
Finds haze on all sides
And quietly rested on the hills;
The princess involuntarily tends to sleep,
And suddenly an unknown force
Tender than a spring breeze
Raises her into the air,
Carries through the air to the palace
And gently lowers
Through the incense of evening roses
On a bed of sadness, a bed of tears.
Three maidens instantly appeared again
And they fussed around her,
To take off a magnificent dress at night;
But their dull, dim gaze
And the enforced silence
Showed compassion in secret
And a feeble reproach to fate.
But let's hurry: with their tender hand
The sleepy princess is undressed;
Delightful with careless beauty,
In one white shirt
She lies down to rest.
With a sigh the maidens bowed,
Get away as soon as possible
And they quietly closed the door.
Well, our captive now!
Trembles like a leaf, does not dare to die;
Percy grow cold, eyes darken;
Instant sleep flees from the eyes;
Doesn't sleep, I doubled my attention,
Stares motionless into the darkness ...
Everything is gloomy, dead silence!
Only the heart hears the flutter ...
And hesitates ... the silence whispers;
They go - go to her bed;
The princess is hiding in the pillows -
And suddenly ... oh fear! .. and indeed
There was a noise; illuminated
With an instant brilliance, the darkness of the night,
Instantly the door is open;
Silently, proudly speaking,
Glittering with naked sabers,
Arapov long row goes
In pairs, as decorously as possible,
And carefully on the pillows
Bears a gray beard;
And he enters with importance behind her,
Raising his neck majestically,
Humpback dwarf out of doors:
His shaved head,
Covered with a tall hood,
The beard belonged.
Already he approached: then
The princess jumped out of bed,
Gray-haired Karl for the cap
With a quick hand I grabbed
Trembling raised her fist
And screeched in fear
That all the araps were stunned.
Trembling, the poor man crumpled,
The frightened princess is paler;
Covering your ears quickly
I wanted to run, but in a beard
Tangled, fell and thrashed;
Gets up, fell; such trouble
Arapov black swarm hesitates,
Noise, push, run,
Grab the sorcerer by the arm
And they are carrying them to unravel,
Leaving Lyudmila's hat.

But something our good knight?
Do you remember the unexpected meeting?
Take your quick pencil
Draw, Orlovsky, night and smash!
By the light of the quivering moon
The knights fought fiercely;
Their hearts are cramped by anger,
Spears have been thrown far away
The swords are already shattered
Chain mails are covered with blood,
Shields are cracking, broken into pieces ...
They grappled on their horses;
Exploding black dust to the sky,
Under them the horses are fighting greyhounds;
Fighters, motionless entwined,
Squeezing each other, they remain,
As if nailed to the saddle;
Their members are reduced by malice;
Intertwined and stiffened;
Fast fire runs through the veins;
On the enemy's chest, the chest trembles -
And now they hesitate, weaken -
Someone will fall ... suddenly my knight,
With a boil, with an iron hand
Tears the rider off the saddle,
Rise, holds over itself
And throws it into the waves from the shore.
“Die! - exclaims menacingly; -
Die, my evil envious! "

You guessed, my reader,
Who the valiant Ruslan fought with:
It was a seeker of bloody battles,
Rogdai, the hope of the people of Kiev,
Lyudmila is a gloomy admirer.
It is along the Dnieper banks
Was looking for a rival footprints;
Found, overtook, but the same strength
I changed the battle pet,
And Russia is an ancient dandy
I found my end in the desert.
And it was heard that Rogdaya
Young mermaid of those waters
Percy took it cold
And, greedily kissing the knight,
She carried me to the bottom with laughter,
And long after, on a dark night,
Wandering near the quiet shores
The giant's ghost is huge
Scared the desert fishermen.

Song three

In vain you lurked in the shadows
For peaceful, happy friends,
My poetry! You didn't hide
From angry envy of eyes.
Already a pale critic, to her service,
The question made me fatal:
Why does Ruslanov need a friend,
As if to laugh at her husband,
I am calling both the maiden and the princess?
You see, my good reader,
There is a black seal of malice!
Tell me Zoilus tell me traitor
Well, how and what should I answer?
Blush, unfortunate, God be with you!
Blush, I don't want to argue;
Satisfied that he is right in soul,
I am silent in humble meekness.
But you will understand me, Klymene,
Lower your languid eyes
You, the victim of a boring Hymen ...
I see: a secret tear
Will fall on my verse, intelligible to the heart;
You blushed, your eyes went out;
She sighed in silence ... a sigh understandable!
Jealous: be afraid, the hour is near;
Cupid with Wayward Annoyance
We entered a bold conspiracy
And for your inglorious head
The vengeful dress is ready.

The cold morning was already shining
On the crown of the full mountains;
But in the wondrous castle, everything was silent.
In hidden chagrin Chernomor,
Without a hat, in a morning robe,
Yawn angrily on the bed.
Around his brada gray
Slaves crowded in silence,
And tenderly a comb of bone
Combing her twists;
Meanwhile, for the benefit and beauty,
On an endless mustache
Oriental aromas flowed,
And sly curls curled;
Suddenly, out of nowhere,
A winged serpent flies through the window:
Rattling with iron scales
He quickly bent into rings
And suddenly Naina turned around
In front of the amazed crowd.
“Greetings,” she said, “
A brother who has long been honored by me!
Until I knew Chernomor
With one loud rumor;
But secret rock connects
Now we are a common enmity;
You are in danger
A cloud has hung over you;
And the voice of offended honor
Calls me to avenge ”.

With a gaze full of cunning flattery
Carla will give her a hand,
Prophetic: “wondrous Naina!
Your union is precious to me.
We'll put Finn to shame;
But I am not afraid of dark intrigues;
A weak enemy is not afraid of me;
Know my wonderful lot:
This blessed beard
No wonder Chernomor is decorated.
How long her gray Vlasov
A hostile sword will not cut
None of the dashing knights
No mortal can destroy
The slightest plans of mine;
My life will be Lyudmila,
Ruslan is doomed to the grave! "
And gloomily the witch repeated:
“He will die! he will die! "
Then she hissed three times,
I stamped my foot three times
And flew away like a black serpent.

Shining in brocade robe,
A sorcerer, encouraged by a sorceress,
Having fun, I decided again
Carry a prisoner at the feet of the maiden
Mustache, humility and love.
The bearded dwarf is discharged,
Goes back to her chambers;
There is a long row of rooms:
There is no princess in them. He is far away, into the garden,
Into the laurel forest, to the trellis of the garden,
Along the lake, around the waterfall,
Under the bridges, into the gazebos ... no!
The princess is gone, and the trace is gone!
Who will express his embarrassment,
And the roar and the thrill of frenzy?
With annoyance he did not see the day.
There was a wild groan of Karla:
“Here, slaves, run!
Here, I hope for you!
Now find me Lyudmila!
Rather, do you hear? now!
Not that - you are joking with me -
I'll strangle all of you with my beard! "

Reader, I will tell you
Where did the beauty go?
All night she is to her destiny
She wondered in tears and laughed.
She was frightened by the beard
But Chernomor was already known
And he was funny, but never
Horror is incompatible with laughter.
Towards the morning rays
Lyudmila left the bed
And she turned her involuntary gaze
To tall, clear mirrors;
Involuntarily golden curls
She lifted her from the lily shoulders;
Unwittingly hair is thick
Braided with a careless hand;
Your yesterday's outfits
Accidentally found in the corner;
Sighing, dressed and with annoyance
She began to cry softly;
However, from the faithful glass
Sighing I did not take my eyes off,
And the girl came to mind,
In the excitement of wayward thoughts,
Try on Chernomor's hat.
Everything is quiet, no one is here;
No one will look at the girl ...
And a girl at seventeen
What a hat won't stick!
Dressing up is never too lazy!
Lyudmila twirled her hat;
On the eyebrows, straight, on one side,
And put it back on.
So what then? about the miracle of the old days!
Lyudmila disappeared in the mirror;
Turned over - in front of her
The old Lyudmila appeared;
Put it back on - again no;
I took it off - I'm in the mirror! "Wonderful!
Good, sorcerer, good, my light!
I’m safe here now;
Now I’ll get rid of the hassle! ”
And the cap of the old villain
The princess, blushing with joy,
Put it on backwards.

But let's return to the hero.
Isn't it a shame to deal with us
For so long a hat, a beard,
Ruslana entrusting destinies?
Having fought a fierce battle with Rogdai,
He drove through a dense forest;
A wide valley opened before him
In the blaze of the morning skies.
The knight trembles against his will:
He sees an old battlefield.
In the distance everything is empty; here and there
Bones turn yellow; over the hills
Quivers, armor are scattered;
Where is the harness, where is the rusty shield;
Here the sword lies in the bones of the hand;
Grass overgrown there a shaggy helmet,
And the old skull smolders in it;
There is a whole skeleton of a hero
With his knocked horse
Lies motionless; spears, arrows
Plunged into the damp earth,
And peaceful ivy wraps around them ...
Nothing of silent silence
This desert does not disturb,
And the sun from a clear height
Death Valley lights up.

With a sigh, the knight around himself
Looks with sad eyes.
“O field, field, who are you
Dotted with dead bones?
Whose greyhound horse trampled you
In the last hour of the bloody battle?
Who fell on you with glory?
Whose heaven has heard prayers?
Why, field, are you silent
And overgrown with the grass of oblivion? ..
Times from eternal darkness
Perhaps there is no salvation for me either!
Perhaps on a mute hill
They will put a quiet coffin of the Ruslans,
And the strings are loud Bayans
They won't talk about him! "

But soon I remembered my knight,
That a hero needs a good sword
And even a shell; and the hero
Unarmed since the last battle.
He walks around the field;
In the bushes, among the forgotten bones,
In the bulk of smoldering chain mail,
Swords and helmets shattered
He is looking for armor for himself.
The hum and the dumb steppe woke up,
Crackling and ringing rose in the field;
He raised his shield without choosing,
I found both a helmet and a sonorous horn;
But only a sword could not be found.
Going round the valley of battle,
He sees many swords
But all are easy, but too small
And the handsome prince was not sluggish,
Not like a knight of our days.
To play with something out of boredom,
He took the steel spear in his hands,
He put chain mail on his chest
And then he set out on a journey.

The rosy sunset has turned pale
Over the sleepy ground;
Smoke blue fogs
And the golden month rises;
The steppe has faded. On a dark path
Our Ruslan rides pensively
And sees: through the night fog
A huge hill blackens in the distance
And something terrible snores.
He is closer to the hill, closer - he hears:
The wonderful hill seems to be breathing.
Ruslan listens and looks
Fearlessly, with a calm spirit;
But, moving a fearful ear,
The horse rests, trembles,
Shakes his stubborn head
And the mane rose on end.
Suddenly a hill, by a cloudless moon
Palely illuminating in the fog,
Clears; the brave prince looks -
And he sees a miracle before him.
Will I find colors and words?
Before him is a living head.
Huge eyes are enveloped in sleep;
Snoring, shaking the feathered helmet,
And feathers in the dark height
Like shadows, they walk, fluttering.
In its terrible beauty
Towering over the gloomy steppe,
Surrounded by silence
The desert guardian of the nameless,
Ruslan will have it
A formidable and foggy bulk.
In perplexity he wants
Mysterious to destroy the dream.
Closely examining the miracle,
Traveled my head around
And he stood silently before his nose;
Tickles the nostrils with a spear
And, grimacing, the head yawned,
She opened her eyes and sneezed ...
A whirlwind arose, the steppe trembled,
Dust flew up; from eyelashes, from a mustache,
A flock of owls flew off my eyebrows;
The groves are silent,
Echo sneezed - zealous horse
Launched, jumped, flew away,
Barely the knight himself sat,
And a noisy voice came after:
“Where are you, foolish knight?
Go back, I'm not kidding!
I'll just swallow the impudent one! "
Ruslan looked around with contempt,
Held the horse with his reins
And he grinned proudly.
"What do you want from me? -
Frowning, the head screamed. -
Here fate has sent me a guest!
Listen, get away!
I want to sleep, now it's night,
Goodbye!" But the famous knight
Hearing rude words
He exclaimed with an angry gravity:
“Shut up, empty head!
I have heard the truth happened:
Though the forehead is wide, the brain is not enough!
I'm going, I'm going, I'm not fistula,
And when I hit it, I won’t let it go! ”

Then, with rage dumbfounded,
Constrained by the malice of the flame,
My head puffed up; like a heat
The bloody eyes flashed;
Thirsty, lips trembled,
Steam rose from the lips, ears -
And suddenly she, that was urine,
It began to blow towards the prince;
In vain the horse, closing its eyes,
Bowing his head, straining his chest,
Through the whirlwind, rain and dusk of the night
The unfaithful continues on the path;
Overwhelmed by fear, blinded
He rushes again, exhausted,
Far away in the field to rest.
The knight wants to turn again -
Reflected again, no hope!
And his head followed him,
She laughs like a crazy woman
Thunders: “ay, knight! ah hero!
Where are you going? hush, hush, stop!
Hey, knight, you can break your neck for nothing;
Don't be scared, rider, and me
Make happy with at least one blow
Until he killed the horse. "
And meanwhile she's a hero
Teased with a terrible language.
Ruslan, vexation in the heart of the cut;
Threatens her silently with a copy,
Shakes him with her free hand,
And, trembling, cold damask
Plunged into an impudent tongue.
And the blood from the frenzied mouth
It ran like a river in an instant.
From surprise, pain, anger,
Lost in a moment of insolence,
The head looked at the prince,
The iron gnawed and turned pale.
In a calm spirit, hot
So sometimes in the middle of our stage
Bad pet Melpomene,
Deafened by a sudden whistle,
He doesn't see anything,
Turns pale, forgets the role,
Trembling, drooping his head,
And stuttering falls silent
In front of a mocking crowd.
Taking advantage of the moment happy
To the embarrassed head,
Like a hawk, a hero flies
With a raised, menacing right hand
And on the cheek with a heavy mitten
It strikes the head with a sweep;
And the steppe resounded with a blow;
All around the dewy grass
Bloody foam stained,
And, reeling, the head
Rolled over, rolled
And the cast-iron helmet rattled.
Then the place is empty
The hero's sword flashed.
Our knight is in a jolly thrill
He was grabbed and to the head
On the bloody grass
Runs with cruel intent
Cut off her nose and ears;
Ruslan is already ready to smite
Has already swung a wide sword -
Suddenly, amazed, he heeds
The head of the praying miserable groan ...
And quietly he lowers the sword,
In him the fierce anger dies,
And stormy vengeance will fall
In the soul, pacified by prayer:
So the ice melts in the valley
Affected by the ray of midday.

“You have enlightened me, hero, -
With a sigh, the head said: -
Your right hand has proven
That I am guilty before you;
From now on I am obedient to you;
But, knight, be generous!
Worthy of crying is my lot.
And I was a daring knight!
In the bloody battles of the adversary
I am not mature for myself;
Happy if I didn’t have
Little brother's rival!
Insidious, evil Chernomor,
You, you are to blame for all my troubles!
Our families are a shame,
Born by Karla, with a beard,
My wondrous growth from young days
He could not see without annoyance
And for that he became in his soul
Me, cruel, to hate.
I've always been a little simple
Although high; and this unfortunate one,
Having the stupidest height,
Clever as a devil - and terribly angry.
Moreover, know, to my misfortune,
In his wonderful beard
Fatal power lurks,
And despising everything in the world,
As long as the beard is intact -
The traitor does not fear evil.
Here he is once with an air of friendship
“Listen,” he said slyly to me, “
Don't give up on important service:
I found in black books
What the eastern mountains
On the quiet seashore
In a deaf basement, under the locks
The sword is kept - and what then? fear!
I made out in the magic darkness,
That by the will of a hostile fate
This sword will be known to us;
That he will destroy both of us:
He will cut off my beard,
Your head; judge for yourself
How important is the acquisition
These creatures of evil spirits! "
“Well, what then? where is the difficulty? -
I said to Carla, - I'm ready;
I am going even beyond the bounds of the world. "
And he lifted a pine tree on his shoulder,
And on another for advice
I planted the villain brother;
Set off on a long journey
Chagall, walked and, thank God,
As if a prophecy for evil,
Everything went happily at the beginning.
Beyond the distant mountains
We found a fatal basement;
I scattered it with my hands
And he took out the hidden sword.
But no! fate wanted it:
A quarrel has boiled between us -
And it was, I confess, about what!
The question is: who owns the sword?
I argued, Karla was getting excited;
They scolded for a long time; finally
A trick was invented by a sly man,
Quiet and seemed to soften.
“Let's leave the useless argument, -
Chernomor told me important: -
By this we will dishonor our union;
Reason commands to live in the world;
We will leave it to fate,
Who does this sword belong to?
Let us both put our ear to the ground
(What malice does not invent!),
And who will hear the first ringing
That one and wield the sword to the grave. "
He said and lay down on the ground.
I also stretched out foolishly;
I lie, I don't hear anything,
Daring: I will deceive him!
But he himself was cruelly deceived.
A villain in deep silence
Standing up, tiptoe to me
Creeped up from behind, swung;
A sharp sword whistled like a whirlwind,
And before I looked back
Already the head flew off the shoulders -
And supernatural power
In her life the spirit stopped
My skeleton is overgrown with thorns;
Far away, in a country forgotten by people,
My unburied ashes have decayed;
But the evil Karla suffered
I am secluded in this land,
Where I should have always guarded
You took the sword today.
O knight! We keep you by fate
Take it, and God be with you!
Maybe on its way
You will meet the sorcerer Karla -
Oh, if you notice him,
Take revenge on insidiousness, anger!
And finally I will be happy
Calmly leave this world -
And in my gratitude
I will forget your slap in the face ”.

Song Four

I rise from sleep every day
Thank god heartily
For the fact that in our times
There are not so many wizards.
Moreover - honor and glory to them! -
Our marriages are safe ...
Their designs are not so terrible
Husbands, young girls.
But there are other wizards,
That I hate:
Smile, blue eyes
And a sweet voice - oh friends!
Do not believe them: they are crafty!
Fear imitating me
Their intoxicating poison
And rest in silence.

Poetry is a wonderful genius,
Singer of mysterious visions
Love, dreams and devils
A faithful inhabitant of graves and paradise,
And my windy muses
Confidant, pestun and keeper!
Forgive me, northern Orpheus,
What's in my funny story
Now I'm flying after you
And the lyre of the wayward muse
In a delightful lie.

My friends, you've heard everything
Like a demon in ancient days, a villain
First betrayed myself with sorrow,
And there are the souls of the daughters;
As after a generous alms,
By prayer, faith, and fasting,
And unfeigned repentance
Seeked a patron in the saint;
How he died and how he fell asleep
His twelve daughters:
And we were captivated, terrified
Pictures of these secret nights
These are wonderful visions
This dark demon, this God's wrath,
Living sinner's torment
And the charm of the virgins.
We cried with them, wandered
Around the battlements of the castle walls,
And loved with a touched heart
Their quiet sleep, their quiet captivity;
With the soul of Vadim they called
And their awakening ripened,
And often nuns of saints
They saw off my father's coffin.
And well, perhaps eh? .. We were lied to!
But will I proclaim the truth?

Young Ratmir, heading south
The impatient running of the horse
I already thought before the sunset of the day
To catch up with Ruslanov's wife.
But the crimson day grew dark;
In vain is the knight before him
I looked into the distant fogs:
Everything was empty over the river.
Dawn the last ray burned
Over a brightly gilded forest.
Our knight past the black rocks
I drove quietly and with my gaze
I was looking for a place to sleep among the trees.
He goes to the valley
And sees: a castle on the rocks
Raises the jagged walls;
Towers at the corners turn black;
And the maiden is on the high wall,
Like a lonely swan in the sea,
Goes, the dawn is illuminated;
And the song of the virgin is barely audible
Valleys in deep silence.

“The darkness of the night falls in the field;
It's too late, young traveler!
Take cover in our gratifying tower.

“Here at night bliss and peace,
And in the afternoon and noise and feasting.
Come to a friendly confession
Come, O young traveler!

“Here you will find a swarm of beauties;
Their speech and kiss are gentle.
Come to a secret calling
Come, O young traveler!

“We are for you with the morning dawn
Let's fill the goblet goodbye.
Come to a peaceful calling
Come, O young traveler!

“The darkness of the night falls in the field;
A cold wind rose from the waves.
It's too late, young traveler!
Take cover in our gratifying tower ”.

She beckons, she sings;
And the young khan is already under the wall:
He is greeted at the gate
Red maidens in a crowd;
In the noise of affectionate speeches
He is surrounded; they don't let him go
They are captivating eyes;
Two maidens lead the horse away;
The young khan enters the palace,
Behind him are a swarm of lovely hermits;
One takes off her winged helmet,
Another forged armor,
That sword takes, that dusty shield;
Bliss clothes will replace
Iron armor of battle.
But first, the young man is led
To the magnificent Russian bath.
Smoky waves are flowing
Into her silver vats
And cold fountains are splashing;
The carpet is spread with luxury;
The tired khan lies down on it;
Transparent steam swirls over it
Downcasting blissful eyes,
Adorable, half-naked,
In tender and dumb care,
Young maidens around the khan
They are crowded in by a frisky crowd.
Over the knight another waves
Branches of young birches,
And the heat from them plows fragrant;
Another with the juice of spring roses
Tired members chills
And in the aromas it drowns
Dark curly hair.
The knight intoxicated with delight
I have already forgotten Lyudmila a prisoner
Recently lovely beauties;
Languishes with sweet desire;
His wandering gaze shines,
And full of passionate anticipation
He melts with his heart, he burns.

But now he comes out of the bath.
Dressed in velvet fabrics
In the circle of pretty maidens, Ratmir
Sits down to a rich feast.
I am not Omer: in high verses
He can chant alone
Lunches of the Greek squads
And the ringing and foam of deep bowls.
Sweeter, in the footsteps of Guys,
Praise me with a careless lyre
And nakedness in the shadow of the night
And a kiss of tender love!
The castle is illuminated by the moon;
I see a distant tower
Where is the languid, inflamed knight
Eats a lonely dream;
His brow, his cheeks
They burn with an instant flame;
His lips are half open
Secret kissing beckons;
He sighs passionately, slowly,
He sees them - and in an ardent dream
He presses the covers to the heart.
But here in deep silence
The door opened: the floor is jealous
Hides under a hurried leg,
And under the silver moon
A maiden flashed. Winged dreams
Hide, fly away!
Wake up - your night has come!
Wake up - the moment of loss is precious! ..
She fits, he lies
And slumbers in voluptuous bliss;
His cover slips from his bed,
And the hot fluff embraces the brow.
In silence the maiden before him
Stands motionless, breathless,
Like a hypocritical Diana
Before his dear shepherd;
And here she is, on the bed of the khan
Leaning on one knee,
Sighing, the face bends to him
With vexation, with living trembling,
And the dream of the lucky man interrupts
Lobzan passionate and dumb ...

But friends, virgin lyre
Has fallen silent under my hand;
My timid voice is weakening -
Let's leave young Ratmir;
I dare not continue with a song:
Ruslan should keep us busy
Ruslan, this hero is unparalleled,
At heart, a hero, a faithful lover.
Tired by stubborn battle,
Under the hero's head
He tastes sweet sleep.
But at the very early dawn
The quiet sky is shining;
All clear; morning ray playful
Heads shaggy forehead gold.
Ruslan gets up, and the zealous horse
Already the knight rushes like an arrow.

And the days are running; cornfields turn yellow;
A decrepit leaf falls from the trees;
In the woods the autumn winds whistle
Drowns out the feathered singers;
Heavy, cloudy fog
It winds round the naked hills;
Winter is approaching - Ruslan
Bravely continues its path
To the far north; every day
New obstacles meet:
Then he fights with a hero,
Now with the witch, now with the giant,
He sees on a moonlit night
As if through a magic dream
Surrounded by a gray mist
Mermaids quietly on the branches
Swinging, knight of the young
With a sly smile on my lips
Beckon without saying a word ...
But we keep a secret trade,
The fearless knight is unharmed;
Desire slumbers in his soul,
He does not see them, he does not heed them,
Lyudmila alone is with him everywhere.

But meanwhile, no one is visible,
From the attacks of the sorcerer
We keep a magic hat,
What does my princess do
My lovely Lyudmila?
She, silent and sad,
One walks through the gardens
He thinks about a friend and sighs,
Or, giving free rein to your dreams,
To the dear Kiev fields
In oblivion the heart flies away;
He hugs his father and brothers,
Girlfriends sees young
And their old mothers -
Captivity and separation are forgotten!
But soon the poor princess
Loses its delusion
And again she was sad and alone.
Slaves of a villain in love
And day and night, not daring to sit,
Meanwhile, through the castle, through the gardens
They were looking for a charming captive
They rushed about, called loudly,
However, all for nothing.
Lyudmila amused herself with them:
In magic groves sometimes
Without a hat, she suddenly appeared
And she clicked: "here, here!"
And all rushed to her in a crowd;
But aside - suddenly invisible -
She with an inaudible foot
I ran away from the predatory hands.
Everywhere they noticed every hour
Her minute traces:
Those are golden fruits
They disappeared on the noisy branches,
Then drops of spring water
Falling into the crumpled meadow:
Then they probably knew in the castle
What does the princess drink or eat.
On the branches of cedar or birch
Hiding at night, she
I was looking for a minute to sleep -
But she only shed tears
I called my spouse and peace,
I languished with sadness and yawning,
And rarely, rarely before dawn,
Leaning to the tree with his head,
Dozing in a thin doze;
The darkness barely ends the night,
Lyudmila walked to the waterfall
Wash with a cold stream:
Karla himself in the morning
Once I saw from the chambers,
As if under an invisible hand
The waterfall splashed and splashed.
With my usual longing
Until a new night, here and there,
She wandered through the gardens;
Often in the evening they heard
Her sweet voice;
Often they raised in the groves
Or a wreath thrown by her,
Or scraps of a Persian shawl
Or a tear-stained handkerchief.

Stung by cruel passion,
Annoyed, clouded by anger,
The sorcerer made up his mind at last
Catching Lyudmila is a must.
So Lemnos is the lame blacksmith,
Having accepted the marriage crown
From the hands of the lovely Cythera,
Spread the net to her beauties,
Opening to the mocking gods
Cypriots are gentle undertakings ...

Bored, poor princess
In the cool of the marble gazebo
Sitting quietly by the window
And through the swaying branches
I looked at the flowering meadow.
Suddenly he hears - they call: "dear friend!"
And he sees the faithful Ruslan.
His features, gait, stance;
But he is pale, there is a fog in his eyes,
And there is a living wound on the thigh -
Her heart trembled. “Ruslan!
Ruslan! .. he's for sure! " And with an arrow
The captive flies to her husband,
In tears, trembling, he says:
"You are here ... you are injured ... what is the matter with you?"
Already reached, hugged:
Horror ... the ghost disappears!
Princess in the nets; from her brow
The cap falls to the ground.
Cooling down, hears a formidable cry
"She is mine!" and at the same moment
He sees the sorcerer before his eyes.
There was a pitiful groan of the virgin,
Falls unconscious - and a wonderful dream
He embraced the unfortunate with his wings.

What will happen to the poor princess!
Oh terrible sight: the wizard is frail (3)
Caresses with an impudent hand
Ludmila's young delights!
Will he really be happy?
Chu ... suddenly there was a ringing of horns,
And someone calls Karla.
In confusion, pale wizard
He puts on a hat on the maiden;
They trumpet again; sonorous, sonorous!
And he flies to an unknown meeting
Throwing his beard over his shoulders.

The fifth song

Ax, how sweet my princess is!
I like her the most:
She is sensitive, modest,
Marital love is true
A bit windy ... so what?
She is even nicer than that.
Hourly the beauty of the new
She knows how to captivate us;
Tell me: is it possible to compare
Her and Delfira's harsh?
One - fate sent a gift
Enchant hearts and eyes;
Her smile, conversations
Love gives rise to heat in me.
And she - under the skirt of a hussar,
Just give her a mustache and spurs!
Blessed is who in the evening
To a secluded corner
My Lyudmila is waiting
And he will call the heart a friend;
But believe me, blessed is the one
Who escapes from Delfira
And I am not even familiar with her.
Yes, however, that's not the point!
But who was trumpeting? Who is the sorcerer
Summoned menacing to slash?
Who scared the sorcerer?
Ruslan. He, with the vengeance of the flame,
Reached the abode of the villain.
Already the knight stands under the mountain,
The calling horn howls like a storm
The impatient horse is boiling
And the snow is digging like a hoof.
Prince Karla is waiting. Suddenly he
On a strong steel helmet
Struck by the invisible hand;
The blow fell like thunder;
Ruslan lifts a vague look
And he sees - right above the head -
With a raised, terrible mace
Karla Chernomor flies.
Covering himself with a shield, he bent down,
He shook his sword and swung;
But he soared under the clouds;
For a moment it disappeared - and from above
The noise flies at the prince again.
The agile knight flew away,
And into the snow with a fatal sweep
The sorcerer fell - and there he sat down;
Ruslan, without saying a word,
Off the horse, hurrying to him,
I caught it, I got it by the beard,
The wizard struggles, groans
And suddenly he flies away with Ruslan ...
The zealous horse looks after him;
Already a sorcerer under the clouds;
The hero hangs on his beard;
Are flying over the gloomy forests
Are flying over wild mountains
They fly over the abyss of the sea;
From the tension of bone,
Ruslan for the beard of the villain
Hold on with a persistent hand.
Meanwhile, weakening in the air
And amazed at the power of the Russian,
Wizard to proud Ruslan
Cunningly he says: “Listen, prince!
I will cease to harm you;
Young courage in loving,
I will forget everything, I will forgive you
I'll go down - but only with an agreement ... "
“Shut up, insidious sorcerer! -
Our knight interrupted: - with Chernomor,
With his wife's tormentor,
Ruslan does not know the contract!
This formidable sword will punish the thief.
Fly to the night star
And you will be without a beard! "
Fear envelopes Chernomor;
In vexation, in dumb sorrow,
In vain long beard
Tired Karla shakes:
Ruslan does not let her out
And sometimes it stings the hair.
For two days the sorcerer wears a hero,
On the third, he asks for mercy:
“O knight, have pity on me;
I can hardly breathe; no more urine;
Leave me life, I am in your will;
Tell me - I will go down where you are leading ... "
“Now you are ours: aha, trembling!
Humble yourself, submit to the Russian power!
Take me to my Lyudmila ”.

Chernomor humbly listens;
He set off home with the knight;
Flies - and instantly found himself
Among its terrible mountains.
Then Ruslan with one hand
Took the sword of the slain head
And, grabbing a beard with another,
Cut it off like a handful of grass.
“Know ours! - he said cruelly, -
What, predator, where is your beauty?
Where is the power? " and on the helmet high
Gray hair knits;
Whistling calls for a dashing horse;
The cheerful horse flies and neighs;
Our knight karl is barely alive
He puts in a knapsack behind the saddle,
And myself, fearing a moment of waste,
Hurries to the top of the steep mountain,
Reached, and with a joyful soul
Flies into the magic chambers.
Seeing a brushed helmet in the distance,
The key to a fatal victory
Before him is a wonderful swarm of arap,
Crowds of fearful slaves,
Like ghosts, from all sides
They run - and disappeared. He walks
Alone among the temples of the proud,
Calls my dear spouse -
Only the echo of the silent vaults
Ruslan gives a voice;
In the excitement of impatient feelings
He opens the doors to the garden -
Goes, goes - and does not find;
Around the embarrassed gaze rounds -
Everything is dead: the groves are silent,
The gazebos are empty; on the rapids
Along the banks of the stream, in the valleys,
There is no trace of Lyudmila anywhere,
And the ear hears nothing.
A sudden coldness embraces the prince,
The light darkens in his eyes,
Gloomy thoughts arose in my mind ...
“Perhaps grief ... a gloomy captivity ...
A minute ... waves ... "In these dreams
He is submerged. With dumb longing
The knight dropped his head;
He is tormented by involuntary fear;
He is immobile as a dead stone;
The mind is gloomy; wild flame
And the poison of desperate love
Already flowing in his blood.
It seemed - the shadow of the beautiful princess
She touched her quivering lips ...
And suddenly, frantic, terrible,
The knight strives for the gardens;
Ludmila calls with a cry,
Tears off the cliffs from the hills,
He destroys everything, crushes everything with a sword -
Gazebos, groves fall
Trees, bridges dive in waves,
The steppe is exposed all around!
Far away hums repeat
And roar and crackle and noise and thunder;
Everywhere the sword rings and whistles,
The lovely land is devastated -
The mad knight is looking for a victim,
With a swing to the right, to the left he
The desert air cuts ...
And suddenly - an accidental blow
From the invisible princess knocks
Chernomor's farewell gift ...
The power of magic instantly disappeared:
Lyudmila has opened in the networks!
Not believing my own eyes,
Intoxicated with unexpected happiness,
Our knight falls at his feet
Faithful, unforgettable girlfriends,
Kisses hands, tears the nets,
Love, delight shed tears,
Calls her - but the maiden is asleep,
Eyes and lips are closed,
And a voluptuous dream
Her young breast lifts.
Ruslan does not take his eyes off her,
He is tormented by the torment again. ..
But suddenly a friend hears a voice
A virtuous Finn's voice:

“Take courage, prince! IN Return trip
Go with the sleeping Lyudmila;
Fill your heart with new strength
Be faithful to love and honor.
Heavenly thunder will strike in spite,
And silence will reign -
And in bright Kiev the princess
Before Vladimir will rise
From an enchanted dream. "

Ruslan, lively with this voice,
Takes his wife in his arms
And quietly with a precious burden
He leaves above
And descends into the lonely valley.

In silence, with Karla at the saddle,
He went his own way;
In his arms lies Lyudmila
Fresh as spring dawn
And on the shoulder of the hero
She bowed her calm face.
With hair twisted in a ring,
The desert breeze plays;
How often her bosom sighs!
How often is a quiet face
Glows with an instant rose!
Love and secret dream
Ruslan's image is brought to her,
And with a languid whisper of the mouth
The spouse's name is pronounced ...
In sweet oblivion he catches
Her magic breath
Smile, tears, tender moan
And sleepy Perseus excitement ...

Meanwhile, along the valleys, over the mountains,
And on a white day and at night,
Our knight goes incessantly.
The desired limit is still far,
And the maiden is asleep. But the young prince,
Languishing with fruitless flames,
Really, the constant sufferer,
Spouse only guarded
And in a chaste dream,
Having humbled an immodest desire,
Did you find your bliss?
The monk who kept
Loyal tradition to posterity
About my glorious knight,
We are boldly assured that:
And I believe! No separation
Dull, rude delights:
We are just happy together.
Shepherdesses, the dream of a charming princess
Didn't sound like your dreams,
Sometimes a languid spring
On an ant, in the shade of a tree.
I remember a little meadow
Among the birch oak forest,
I remember a dark evening
I remember Lida's crafty dream ...
Ah, the first kiss of love
Trembling, light, hasty,
I did not disperse, my friends,
Her patient naps ...
But full of it, I'm talking nonsense!
Why remember love?
Her joy and suffering
Forgotten by me for a long time;
Now get my attention
Princess, Ruslan and Chernomor.

The plain creeps before them,
Where they ate from time to time they ascended;
And a formidable hill in the distance
The round top turns black
Heaven in the bright blue
Ruslan looks - and guessed
What drives up to the head;
Faster the greyhound horse rushed
The miracle of miracles is already visible;
She looks with a motionless eye;
Her hair is like a black forest,
Overgrown on a high brow;
Lanits are deprived of life,
Lead pallor covered
Huge mouths are open
Huge teeth are constrained ...
Over a half-dead head
The last day was already heavy.
A brave knight flew to her
With Lyudmila, with Karla behind her back
He shouted: “Hello, head!
I'm here! your traitor is punished!
Look: here he is, our villain prisoner! "
And the prince's proud words
She was suddenly revived
For a moment the feeling was awakened in her,
I woke up as if from a dream
She looked, groaned terribly ...
She recognized the knight
And I recognized my brother with horror.
Nostrils puffed up; on the cheeks
The crimson fire is still born
And in dying eyes
The last anger was portrayed.
In confusion, in a dumb rage
She gnashed her teeth
And to my brother with a cold tongue
An indistinct babbling reproach ...
Already her at that very hour
The long suffering ended:
Chela instant flame extinguished,
The heavy breathing is weak,
A huge gaze rolled back,
And soon the prince and Chernomor
Have seen death shudder ...
She rested in eternal sleep.
In silence, the knight withdrew;
The quivering dwarf behind the saddle
Didn't dare to breathe, didn't move
And with a warlock tongue
He prayed fervently to the demons.

On the slope of dark shores
Some nameless river,
In the cool dusk of the woods
There was a shelter for a drooping hut,
Crowned with dense pines.
Into the slow river
Close to the reed fence
Washed by a sleepy wave
And around him barely murmured
With a slight noise of the breeze.
The valley lurked in these places,
Solitary and dark;
And there seemed to be silence
From the beginning of the world she reigned.
Ruslan stopped the horse.
Everything was quiet, serene;
From the dawning day
Valley with coastal grove
Smoke shone through the morning.
Ruslan lays his wife on the meadow,
Sits down beside her, sighs
With despondency sweet and dumb;
And suddenly he sees before him
The humble sail of the shuttle
And hears the song of the fisherman
Over a quiet-flowing river.
Throwing the net over the waves,
The fisherman, leaning on the oars,
Floats to the wooded shores
To the threshold of the humble hut.
And the good prince Ruslan sees:
The shuttle sails to the shore;
Runs out of the dark hut
Young maiden; slender body,
Hair, carelessly loose,
Smile, quiet gaze of the eyes,
Both chest and shoulders are bare
Everything is cute, everything is captivating in her.
And here they are, embracing each other,
They sit down by the cool waters
And an hour of carefree leisure
For them, it comes with love.
But in silence in astonishment
Who is the happy fisherman
Will our young knight know?
Khazar Khan, chosen by glory,
Ratmir, in love, in a bloody war
His rival is young
Ratmir in the serene desert
Lyudmila, forgot fame
And changed them forever
In the arms of a gentle friend.

The hero approached, and in a moment
The hermit recognizes Ruslan,
Stands up, flies. There was a cry ...
And the prince hugged the young khan.
“What do I see? - asked the hero
Why are you here, why did you leave
Anxiety fighting life
And the sword that you glorified? "
“My friend, - answered the fisherman, -
The soul is bored with abusive glory
An empty and disastrous ghost.
Trust me: innocent fun
Love and peaceful oak groves
A hundred times dearer to the heart -
Now, having lost the thirst for battle,
I stopped paying tribute to madness,
And, rich in true happiness,
I forgot everything, dear comrade,
Everything, even the charms of Lyudmila ”.
“Dear Khan, I am very glad! -
Ruslan said; - she is with me. "
“Is it possible by what fate?
What do I hear? Russian princess ...
She is with you, where is she?
Excuse me ... but no, I'm afraid of treason;
My friend is sweet to me;
My happy change
She was the culprit;
She is my life, she is my joy!
She returned to me again
My lost youth
Both peace and pure love.
In vain they promised me happiness
The lips of young sorceresses;
Twelve virgins loved me:
I left them for her;
I left them merry,
In the shade of the guardian oak trees;
I folded both the sword and the heavy helmet,
Forgot both glory and enemies.
The hermit is peaceful and unknown,
Left in a happy wilderness
With you, dear friend, adorable friend,
With you, the light of my soul! "

The dear shepherdess listened
Friends open conversation
And, fixing his gaze on the khan,
And she smiled and sighed.

The fisherman and the knight on the banks
We sat until the dark night
With soul and heart on our lips -
The clock flew invisibly.
The forest turns black, the mountain is dark;
The moon rises - everything has become quiet.
It's high time for the hero to go -
Throwing quietly a blanket
On the sleeping virgin, Ruslan
Goes and sits on a horse;
Thoughtfully silent khan
Soul strives to follow him,
Ruslan happiness, victories
He wishes for glory and love ...
And thoughts of proud, young years
Involuntary sadness revives ...

Why fate is not destined
To my fickle lyre
Heroism to chant one
And with him (unknown in the world)
Love and friendship of old years?
Poet of sad truth,
Why should I for posterity
To expose vice and malice
And the secrets of the machinations of treachery
To denounce in true songs?

An unworthy seeker of a princess,
Having lost the hunt for glory,
Farlaf unknown to anyone
In a desert far and calm
He hid and waited for Naina.
And the solemn hour has come.
The sorceress came to him,
Prophetic: “Do you know me?
Follow me; saddle your horse! "
And the witch turned into a cat;
The horse was saddled, she set off;
By the paths of gloomy oak groves
Farlaf follows her.

The valley was quiet dozing,
Dressed in fog at night,
The moon ran across in darkness
From cloud to cloud and mound
Illuminated with an instant brilliance.
Ruslan in silence under him
Sat with usual melancholy
Before the lulled princess.
He thought deeply
Dreams flew after dreams
And imperceptibly a dream blew
Above him with cold wings.
On a virgin with vague eyes
In a languid slumber, he looked
And, with a weary head
Bending down at her feet, he fell asleep.

And the hero has a prophetic dream:
He sees as if the princess
Above the terrible abyss deep
Stands motionless and pale ...
And suddenly Lyudmila disappears,
He stands alone above the abyss ...
A familiar voice, an inviting groan
From a quiet abyss flies ...
Ruslan strives for his wife;
The headlong flies in the deep darkness.
And suddenly he sees in front of him:
Vladimir, in a high gridnitsa,
In the circle of gray-haired heroes,
Between twelve sons,
With a crowd of named guests
Sits at swollen tables.
And just as angry old prince,
As on a terrible day of parting,
And everyone is sitting still,
Not daring to break the silence.
The cheerful noise of the guests has subsided,
The circular bowl does not go ...
And he sees among the guests
In the battle of the slain Rogdai:
The killed, as if alive, sits;
From a frothy glass
He is cheerful, drinks and does not look
At the astonished Ruslan.
The prince also sees the young khan,
Friends and foes ... and suddenly
There was a fugitive sound of ghusli
And the voice of the prophetic Bayan,
A singer of heroes and fun.
Farlaf enters the gridnitsa,
He leads Lyudmila by the hand;
But the old man, without getting up from his place,
He is silent, bowing his head to the sad,
Princes, boyars - everyone is silent,
Soul movement cut.
And everything disappeared - mortal cold
Encompasses the sleeping hero.
Deeply immersed in a slumber,
He sheds painful tears
In excitement he thinks: it's a son!
Languishes, but ominous dreams,
Alas, he cannot interrupt.

The moon shines slightly over the mountain;
The groves are embraced by darkness,
Valley in dead silence ...
The traitor rides a horse.

A clearing opened before him;
He sees a gloomy mound;
Ruslan sleeps at Lyudmila's feet,
And the horse walks around the mound
Farlaf looks with fear;
In the fog the witch disappears
His heart sank in him, trembling
He drops the bridle from cold hands,
Quietly draws her sword
Getting ready for a knight without a fight
Cut in two with a sweep ...
I drove up to him. Hero's horse
Feeling the enemy, boiled,
He blinked and stamped. The sign is in vain!
Ruslan doesn't listen; terrible dream,
Like a load, it weighed over him! ..
Traitor, emboldened by a witch,
To the hero's chest with a despicable hand
It pierces cold steel three times ...
And fearfully rushes into the distance
With its precious loot.

All night insensitive Ruslan
Lied in the darkness under the mountain.
The clock flew by. River blood
It flowed from inflamed wounds.
In the morning, opening a misty gaze,
Launching a heavy, weak moan,
With an effort he raised himself,
He looked, drooped by the head of the swearing -
And he fell motionless, lifeless.

Song six

You tell me, oh my gentle friend,
On a lyre light and careless
The ancient ones were humming
And to devote to the faithful muse
Hours of invaluable leisure ...
You know, dear friend:
Quarreling with windy rumors,
Your friend, intoxicated with bliss,
Forgotten and solitary work,
And the sounds of the lyre dear.
From harmonious fun
I am intoxicated with bliss, lost the habit ...
I breathe you - and proud glory
I do not understand the inviting click
A secret genius left me
And fictions, and sweet thoughts;
Love and thirst for pleasure
Some haunt my mind.
But you command, but you loved
My old stories
Devotions of glory and love;
My hero, my Lyudmila,
Vladimir, witch, Chernomor,
And Finna's faithful sorrows
Your dream was occupied;
You, listening to my light nonsense,
Sometimes she dozed with a smile;
But sometimes your tender gaze
Throwing more tenderly on the singer ...
I will make up my mind; love talker,
Touching the lazy strings again;
I sit at your feet and again
Branch about the young knight.

But what did I say? Where is Ruslan?
He lies dead in an open field;
His blood does not flow anymore,
A greedy lie flies over him,
The horn is silent, the armor is motionless,
The shaggy helmet does not move!

A horse walks around Ruslan,
Dropping his proud head,
Fire disappeared in his eyes!
Doesn't wave a gold mane,
He does not amuse himself, he does not jump,
And he is waiting for Ruslan to rise ...
But the prince is deep in a cold sleep,
And for a long time his shield will not burst.

And Chernomor? He's behind the saddle
In a knapsack, forgotten by a witch,
Doesn't know about anything yet;
Tired, sleepy and angry
Princess, my hero
Tacitly scolded out of boredom;
Hearing nothing for a long time
The wizard looked out - about a miracle!
He sees the hero is killed;
The drowned man lies in blood;
Lyudmila is gone, everything is empty in the field;
The villain trembles with joy
And he thinks: it's done, I'm free!
But old Karla was wrong.

Meanwhile, Naina shaded
With Lyudmila, quietly put to sleep
Farlaf strives for Kiev:
Flies, hope, full of fear;
There are already Dnieper waves in front of him
In familiar pastures they make noise;
Already sees the golden-domed hail;
Farlaf is already racing through the city,
And the noise in the haystacks rises;
In the excitement of the joyful people
Fells behind the rider, squeezes;
They run to please their father:
And here is the traitor at the porch.

Dragging a burden in my soul of sorrow,
Vladimir-sun at that time
In his high mansion
He sat, languishing in the usual thought.
Boyars, knights around
They sat with a morose importance.
Suddenly he hears: in front of the porch
Excitement, screams, wonderful noise;
The door opened; in front of him
An unknown warrior appeared;
All stood up with a dull stomp
And suddenly they were embarrassed, they made a noise:
“Lyudmila is here! Farlaf ... really? "
In a sad face, changing
The old prince gets up from his chair,
Hurries with heavy steps
To your unfortunate daughter,
Fits; stepfather's hands
He wants to touch her;
But the dear maiden does not listen,
And enchanted slumbers
In the hands of the killer - everyone is looking
At the prince in vague anticipation;
And the old man has a restless look
He stared at the knight in silence.
But, slyly pressing his finger to his lips,
“Lyudmila is sleeping, - said Farlaf: -
I found her so recently
In the desert Murom forests
In the hands of an evil goblin;
There the deed was done gloriously;
We fought for three days; moon
She rose above the battle three times;
He fell, and the young princess
Sleepily fell into my hands;
And who will interrupt this wondrous dream?
When will the awakening come?
I do not know - the law of fate is hidden!
And we hope and patience
Some remained in consolation. "

And soon with the fatal news
Rumors flew through the hail;
A motley crowd of people
Gradskaya square has boiled;
The sad tower is open to all;
The crowd is worried, knocking down
There, where on a high bed,
On a brocade blanket
The princess lies in a deep sleep;
Princes and knights all around
They are sad; the voices are trumpets,
Horns, tympans, gusli, tambourines
Thunder over her; old prince,
Wearing heavy longing,
At the feet of Lyudmila with gray hair
Dropped with silent tears;
And Farlaf, pale beside him
In mute repentance, in annoyance,
Trembles, losing audacity.

Night has come. No one in the city
I did not close my sleepless eyes;
Rustling, they all crowded together:
He talked about every miracle;
Young spouse to his wife
In the humble room he forgot.
But only the light of the moon is two-horned
Disappeared before the dawn
All Kiev with a new alarm
Confused! Clicks, noise and howl
Sprung up everywhere. Kievans
They crowd on the city wall ...
And they see: in the morning mist
The tents turn white across the river;
Shields, like a glow, shine,
In the fields, riders flicker,
In the distance, lifting up black dust;
Camping carts are coming,
Bonfires are burning in the hills.
Trouble: the Pechenegs have risen!

But at this time the prophetic Finn,
The mighty lord of the spirits,
In your serene desert
I expected with a calm heart
So that the day of inevitable fate,
Long foreseen, rebelled.

In the silent wilderness of the combustible steppes,
Behind the distant chain of wild mountains
Dwellings of winds, explosive storms,
Where and witches bold gaze
He is afraid to penetrate into the late hour,
The wonderful valley lurks
And there are two keys in that valley:
One flows in a living wave,
Murmuring merrily over the stones,
He pours out dead water.
Everything is quiet around, the winds are sleeping,
Vernal coolness does not blow,
Centennial pines do not rustle
The birds do not hover, the doe does not dare
In the heat of summer, drink from secret waters;
A couple of spirits from the beginning of the world,
Silent in the bosom of the world
The dense coast guards ...
With two jugs empty
The hermit appeared before them;
The spirits interrupted an old dream
And they departed full of fear.
Leaning down, he plunges
Vessels in virgin waves;
Filled it, disappeared in the air,
And I found myself in two moments
In the valley where Ruslan lay
Bloodied, mute, motionless;
And the old man stood over the knight,
And he sprinkled it with dead water,
And the wounds shone in an instant
And a corpse of wonderful beauty
Blossomed; then living water
The elder sprinkled the hero,
And cheerful, full of new strength,
Trembling with a young life,
Ruslan gets up, on a clear day
He looks with greedy eyes,
Like an ugly dream, like a shadow
The past flashes before him.
But where is Lyudmila? He is alone!
In him, the heart flashes into a standstill.
Suddenly the knight floundered; the prophetic finn
Calls him and hugs him:
“Fate has come true, oh my son!
Bliss awaits you;
A bloody feast is calling you;
Your formidable sword will strike with disaster;
A meek peace will descend on Kiev,
And there she will appear to you.
Take the cherished ring
Touch it to Lyudmila's brow,
And the secret spells will disappear,
Enemies will be confused by your face
Peace will come, malice will perish.
Be both worthy of happiness!
Forgive me for a long time, my knight!
Give your hand ... there, behind the door of the coffin
Not before - we'll see you! "
Said disappeared. Intoxicated
Delight ardent and dumb,
Ruslan, awakened for life,
Raises his hands after him ...
But nothing is heard more!
Ruslan is alone in a deserted field;
Jumping, with Karla behind the saddle,
Ruslanov is an impatient horse
Runs and neighs, waving his mane;
The prince is already ready, he is already on horseback,
Already he flies alive and sound
Through the fields, through the oak groves.

But meanwhile what a shame
Is Kiev under siege?
There, looking at the fields,
The people, amazed by despondency,
Stands on towers and walls
And in fear awaits the heavenly execution;
Timid groaning in the houses,
There is a silence of fear on the stogny;
Alone, near his daughter,
Vladimir in sorrowful prayer;
And a brave host of heroes
With the faithful retinue of princes
Preparing for a bloody battle.

And the day has come. Crowds of enemies
At dawn they moved from the hills;
Indomitable squads
Excitedly poured from the plain
And they flowed to the city wall;
Trumpets rang in the hail,
The fighters closed, flew
To meet the brave rati,
Agreed - and the battle began.
Feeling death, the horses leaped,
Let's go knock swords on armor;
A cloud of arrows rose up with a whistle,
The plain was filled with blood;
The riders rushed headlong,
The horse squads mingled;
Close, friendly wall
There, the formation is cut with the formation;
The footman fights with the rider there;
There, a frightened horse rushes;
There the Russian fell, there the Pecheneg;
There are clicks of battle, there is escape;
He is overturned with a mace;
He was struck by an easy arrow;
Another, crushed by a shield,
Trampled by a mad horse ...
And the battle lasted until the dark night;
Neither the enemy nor ours defeated!
Behind piles of bloody bodies
The soldiers closed their languid eyes,
And their abusive sleep was strong;
Only occasionally on the battlefield
A mournful groan was heard from the fallen
And Russian knights of prayer.

The morning shadow grew pale,
The wave was silvered in the stream,
A dubious day was born
In the misty east.
Hills and forests are bright,
And the heavens were awakening.
Still in idle peace
The battle field was dozing;
Suddenly the dream was interrupted: the enemy camp
I rose up noisily with alarm,
A sudden cry of battle broke out;
The hearts of the people of Kiev were confused;
Run in discordant crowds
And they see: in the field between the enemies,
Shining in armor, as if on fire,
Wonderful warrior on horseback
It rushes like a thunderstorm, pricks, cuts,
In the roaring horn, flying, blows ...
It was Ruslan. Like God's thunder
Our knight fell on the bassurman;
He prowls with Karla behind the saddle
In the midst of a frightened camp.
Wherever the formidable sword enlightens,
Where an angry horse will not rush,
Everywhere chapters fly off the shoulders
And with a cry, the formation falls down on the formation;
In an instant, an abusive meadow
Covered with hills of bloody bodies,
Alive, crushed, headless,
Lots of spears, arrows, chain mail.
To the sound of the trumpet, to the voice of battle
Horse squads of the Slavs
We rushed in the footsteps of the hero,
We fought ... perish, you bastard!
The horror of the Pechenegs embraces;
Stormy Raid Pets
The scattered horses are called
They dare not resist anymore
And with a wild howl in a dusty field
They run from the Kiev swords
Doomed to sacrifice to hell;
The Russian sword executes their host;
Kiev rejoices ... But in the hail
The mighty hero flies;
In his right hand he holds a victorious sword;
The spear shines like a star;
Blood flows from the copper chain mail;
A beard curls on the helmet;
Flies, surrounded by hope,
On noisy haystacks to the prince's house.
The people, intoxicated with delight,
Crowds around with clicks
And joy revived the prince.
He enters the silent tower,
Where Lyudmila sleeps with a wonderful dream.
Vladimir, immersed in thought,
A gloomy man stood at her feet.
He was alone. His friends
The war drew to the fields of blood.
But with him Farlaf, shunning glory
Far from enemy swords
In my soul, disdaining the anxieties of the camp,
He stood guard at the door.
As soon as the villain recognized Ruslan,
The blood in him has cooled, the eyes have gone out,
A voice froze in the open lips,
And he fell unconscious on his knees ...
Treason awaits a worthy execution!
But, remembering the secret gift of the ring,
Ruslan flies to sleeping Lyudmila,
Her calm face
Touches with a trembling hand ...
And a miracle: the young princess,
Sighing, she opened her bright eyes!
It seemed as if she
Marveled at such a long night;
It seemed like some kind of dream
She tormented her with an obscure dream,
And suddenly I found out - this is it!
And the prince is in the arms of a beautiful one.
Resurrected with a fiery soul,
Ruslan does not see, does not listen,
And the old man in dumb joy,
Sobbing, hugs the darlings.

How will I end my long story?
You will guess, my dear friend!
The wrong old man's anger went out,
Farlaf before him and before Lyudmila
At the feet of Ruslana announced
Your shame and dark villainy;
The happy prince forgave him;
Deprived of the power of sorcery,
Charles was received into the palace;
And, celebrating the end of disasters,
Vladimir in high gridnitsa
I wrote it down in my family.

The deeds of days gone by
The legends of deep antiquity.

Epilogue

So, an indifferent inhabitant of the world,
In the bosom of idle silence
I praised the obedient lyre
Legends of dark antiquity.
I sang and forgot my grievances
Blind happiness and enemies
Betrayal of windy Dorida
And noisy fools' gossip.
Worn on the wings of fiction,
The mind flew over the edge of the earth;
And meanwhile invisible thunderstorms
A cloud was gathering over me! ..
I was dying ... Holy Guardian
Initial stormy days
Friendship, gentle comforter
My painful soul!
You begged for bad weather;
You brought back peace to your heart;
You kept me free
Idol of seething youth!
Forgotten by light and rumor,
Far from the banks of the Neva,
Now I see before me
The proud heads of the Caucasus.
Above their steep peaks,
On the slope of the stone rapids,
Feeding on dumb feelings
And the wonderful beauty of the pictures
Nature is wild and sullen;
Soul as before, every hour
Full of painful thought -
But the fire of poetry went out.
I am looking for impressions in vain:
She passed, it's time for poetry,
It's time for love, happy dreams,
It's time for heartfelt inspirations!
Rapture a short day has passed -
And hid from me forever
Goddess of quiet chants ...

Ruslan and Lyudmila (poem by A.S. Pushkin)

Only occasionally with a dull whistle
A whirlwind riots in a clean field
And at the edge of gray skies
Shakes the naked forest.
In tears of despair, Lyudmila
She covered her face in horror.

Alas, what awaits her now!
Runs through the silver door;
She opened with music,
And our maiden found herself
In the garden. Captivating Limit:
More beautiful than the gardens of Armida
And those that he owned
Tsar Solomon il prince of Taurida.
Before her they waver, rustle
Magnificent Dubrovy;
Avenues of palm trees, and a laurel forest,
And a number of fragrant myrtle,
And proud peaks of cedars,
And golden oranges
By the mirror of the waters are reflected;
Hills, groves and valleys
Springs are revived by fire;
May wind blows with coolness
Among the enchanted fields
And the Chinese nightingale whistles
In the darkness of trembling branches;
Diamond fountains fly
With a merry noise to the clouds:
Under them idols shine
And, it seems, are alive; Phidias himself,
Pet of Phoebus and Pallas,
Admiring them finally
Its charmed cutter
I would drop it out of my hands with annoyance.
Crushing on marble barriers,
Pearl, fiery arc
Falls, waterfalls splash;
And streams in the shade of the forest
Slightly curl like a sleepy wave.
Shelter of peace and coolness,
Through eternal greenery here and there
Light gazebos flicker;
Living branches everywhere
Blossom and breathe along the trails.
But inconsolable Lyudmila
He walks, walks and does not look;
The luxury of magic has become hateful to her,
She is sad bliss light appearance;
Where, without knowing herself, she wanders,
The magic garden goes around
Freedom to bitter tears
And erects gloomy gaze
To the unforgiving skies
Suddenly a beautiful gaze lit up:
She pressed her finger to her lips;
It seemed terrible intent
Born ... The terrible path is open:
High bridge over the stream
Hangs in front of her on two rocks;
In the gloom heavy and deep
She comes up - and in tears
Looked at the noisy waters,
Hit, sobbing, in the chest,
I decided to drown in the waves -
However, she did not jump into the water.
And she continued on her way.

My beautiful Lyudmila,
Running in the sun in the morning
Tired, dried up my tears,
In my heart I thought: it's time!
She sat down on the grass, looked back -
And suddenly over her the canopy of the tent,
Noisy, turned around with coolness;
A sumptuous dinner in front of her;
Bright crystal device;
And in silence from behind the branches
The harp began to play invisibly.

The captive princess marvels,
But secretly she thinks:
“Far from the dear, in captivity,
Why should I live in the world Bole?
Oh you, whose disastrous passion
It torments and cherishes me
I am not afraid of the villain power:
Lyudmila knows how to die!
I don't need your tents
No boring songs, no feasts -
I won't eat, I won't listen
I will die among your gardens! "
I thought - and began to eat.
The princess gets up, and in a moment the tent,
And a lush luxury device,
And the sounds of the harp ... everything was gone;
As before, everything became quiet;
Lyudmila alone in the gardens again
Wandering from grove to grove;
Meanwhile in the azure skies
The moon floats, queen of the night
Finds haze on all sides
And quietly rested on the hills;
The princess involuntarily tends to sleep,
And suddenly an unknown force
Tender than a spring breeze
Raises her into the air,
Carries through the air to the palace
And gently lowers
Through the incense of evening roses
On a bed of sadness, a bed of tears.
Three maidens instantly appeared again
And they fussed around her,
To take off a magnificent dress at night;
But their dull, dim gaze
And the enforced silence
Showed compassion in secret
And a feeble reproach to fate.
But let's hurry: with their tender hand
The sleepy princess is undressed;
Delightful with careless beauty,
In one white shirt
She lies down to rest.
With a sigh the maidens bowed,
Get away as soon as possible
And they quietly closed the door.
Well, our captive now!
Trembles like a leaf, does not dare to die;
Percy grow cold, eyes darken;
Instant sleep flees from the eyes;
Doesn't sleep, I doubled my attention,
Stares motionless into the darkness ...
Everything is gloomy, dead silence!
Only the heart hears the flutter ...
And hesitates ... the silence whispers,
They go - go to her bed;
The princess is hiding in the pillows -
And suddenly ... oh fear! .. and indeed
There was a noise; illuminated
With an instant brilliance, the darkness of the night,
Instantly the door is open;

Silently, proudly speaking,
Glittering with naked sabers,
Arapov long row goes
In pairs, as decorously as possible,
And carefully on the pillows
Bears a gray beard;