BY TORSTEN SCHWANKE
DEDICATED TO MY BLESSED BELOVED, ANNA KARINA
PART ONE
CANTO I
Ofimja spoke, the mother to the child
Nikita, Do not ride into the wide field,
The three hundred lakes, the sharp wind
Do not cross and leave the high tent
Not by the Saracen mountain, thou hero.
Devour not the serpent; never bathe
In the Pucai stream that waves wild and fiery.
But Nikita rode the wide paths
And pleaded to the heavenly heights for strength and mercy!
How Nikita's heroic heart thirsted!
He came to the Pucai River through the wide land
And carried a knife of silver ore;
Then he stripped off his most colourful robe
And stepped from the arched bank
Into the water, willing to cross
The stream. He spoke in his ignorance,
The mother said, the stream is hot and wild;
But I find the water peaceful, gentle and mild.
No wind is above three times a hundred hollows,
Then something hastened on the banks,
There were no weather clouds in the sky,
But suddenly it poured down like rain,
Like thundering chariots it rolled along the paths,
And like lightning the serpent came whizzing.
Then the child of creation asked for God's blessing
And was no longer afraid in his heart.
But the waters wriggled patiently for a long time.
Soon the snake spoke to Nikita,
Now is Nikita, the child of Ofimja,
In my all-encompassing power;
Now I feel like eating you quickly,
Now I have a lust, and in the waters mild
I'll drown you and carry you into the cave.
Which they fell two by two into the water,
They wrestled there, the serpent like jewels,
Nikita unclothed to his soul.
There on the shore lay only Nikita's hat
From Greece, which he took unconsciously
And threw it, and it must have weighed three poods,
To the serpent, who, in mortal lust,
On the shore's edge, writhing in th dust.
But Nikita took a sharp knife
And cut the snake's white breast,
As white as doves and paler than snow.
Dying, he said to him, I know better.
You will not ride to the mountain of the Saracens,
And I will not fly through the land of the Slavs.
Nikita let, to mention this,
Him from between his knees. There bending
He saw the serpent that had risen
Up to the ether in the morning light.
He flew to Kiev. There was in long silence
Zabava, the prince's pretty niece.
The snake stole her, she often had visions.
Then the prince, whose name was Vladimir, spoke,
Where is the sorceress? From her throat
I will hear: Where was
Zabava taken? Woe to my soul!
The diamond, dearer to me than jewels!
Where is a hero and comforter to my sorrow?
Who voluntarily descends into the cave?
Who is it that frees Zabava for me?
It is Nikita, the hero and saviour of that maiden!
Nikita was at home with his mother,
And his mind was all of deep sorrow.
They had bread and salt and little butter.
Ofimja was there aloud with tears
And said, In the stable stands a grey horse for thee,
And take the long silk whip with thee,
And be thou as a ghostly fox more cunning,
And come as victor back from the ride,
For I must have suffered ten thousand fears for thee.
Nikita saddled the good horse,
The girths were all made of sturdy silk,
The saddle-buckles red, of great price,
Of gold. He swung himself up in his sorrow,
And horse and rider rode far and wide
And came to the mountain of the Saracens.
By fire and by the sword many a heathen died.
Zabava, whiter than the fluff of swans
And rosier than blood, she stretched as his sinew.
At last Nikita came to the cave
And cried out in his unquenched rage
Out of the indignation of his noble soul,
Ah, thou cursed beast, thou brood of vipers,
Give me back Zabava fair and well
And let us not shed rivers of blood!
Then said that serpent before that cave,
If thou hast not the courage to fight with me,
Thou shalt never see Zabava's cheek.
So they fought for three nights and three days.
At last Nikita doesn't want to fight any more,
Then a gentle voice sounded from Heaven,
Ofimja's child, you shall not dampen anger,
Three nights have you fought in your fury,
Three hours remain in the fight, and the terrible breed,
The evil brood shall be overcome by thy might!
That he may swim in his own blood,
He inflicted a dozen wounds on him.
And was thus found to be an overcomer.
Nikita could no longer endure,
Then from Heaven a voice sounded good
And sweet and a comfort in his mourning,
Three nights you have stood with courage,
Three more hours you stand in the blood.
hen strike the lance with good cheer
Loudly on the rock! Then the cave opened,
And up to the entrance went the red tide;
There stood Zabava white as a stele.
At the beloved's side went the dear soul...
CANTO II
From the green sea of Korsun
Fog fell and a long rain.
Three purple ships now sailed,
Their sails waved over the waterways.
But in Korsun a melody sang
Marina, that maiden of heresy.
The purple ships she took away
And took from them bridge money and customs.
But the skippers wrote in that place
With ink and paper (like Apollo
From the Caucasus) with their souls thirsting
Letters to Gleb Volodjevich, the prince.
Then this letter came very quickly to the prince,
His heart was set on fire, and he took up the horn.
He called to urge his men on,
In his heroic courage, he was born,
Be men, brave host!
We ride to Korsun to Marina!
Hey, we ride to the city of Korsun,
To that maiden of heresy, Marina.
In white linen tents you shall rest
At dawn, brave host!
And in the morning the dew came down as a shower.
The men jumped over a wall.
There rode the prince, there clanged loudly the sabre,
Up to the white turret on the wall.
There stood veiled by the morning mist
Marina, weeping a sea of grief,
Prince! Now is suffering, later comes joy!
Pirol-like she sang this from the building.
The prince called out in a loud voice, Give me back
The ships with the purple sails!
Then Marina spoke (and ther words were songs)
We must obey the rules from ancient times:
You must first solve for me the riddles three,
Then I'll set you free the purple fleet.
What is whiter in summer than the snow,
What is greener in winter than the sea? -
In summer the corn is like a lake,
In winter, fir branches hang heavy. -
Thus she knew how to ask mysteriously,
And truly wise could he answer.
What grows, yet without roots firm and sweet?
And what skates over the ice without skates? -
The last are the first spring rivers,
The first is the last snow so white. -
So she asked, learned and mysterious,
He spoke like the thymbrious Apollo.
With you in golden Moscow all of stone,
There's a mountain of bones, and on it stands
A cypress tree soft in the sunshine,
With a phoenix wafting over it.
I will bind the ships from the shore,
If only you know the answer to the riddle.
The mountain of bones under the firmament,
That is my horse; and the cypress tree,
That's me, the unbeatable hero;
The phoenix with the wings of morning fluff,
Is probably my helmet on my uplifted head.
Now give me the ships you have stolen!
Then Marina rode from the white wall
And poured in a cup of red wine,
Gave it to him, he poured it out. Shiver
There was the place and all in the firelight.
The flames flickered towards the white wall,
But the people came together there.
O white wall, o flaming red!
Then he shot an arrow from his bow.
Marina came to death, death
Came to her, she fell down.
Verily the maiden of heresy shall rest
By the sea of Heaven, Marina of Korsun.
CANTO III
In rich India was it where the boyar
Named Peresmeta shot the arrows,
Three hundred and three, at a great carrion.
Then he said to himself, That now I hasten,
To bring the mother news of the child's salvation,
Of the child's salvation. With Prince Vladimir
There is no boredom at the banquet,
But green wine and sweet mead and beer
And also the white princess, who is Russia's adornment!
Then said the mother, With thee take the blessing,
My Peresmeta, greet me the mild
Prince Vladimir, and God on thy ways!
In the snowy twilight of the countryside
You could see the deep trail forming splendidly.
And Peresmeta came to Kiev proud.
In India the temple domes are golden,
Here the church tower is of aspen wood.
So what, my lord, that I stay in Russia, so what?
There are stone churches there, whitewashed with lime,
In India it's all precious stone.
Wooden paths are ridden, my lord, you know,
By us; in India the paths are fine,
And red-yellow is the sand like morning light,
And instead of the Saracen's strong cloth
There is pure transparent silk.
Desire burns in my veins,
My lord, let me be parted, to fulfil my longing!
Then mild Vladimir smiled,
My Peresmeta, ride eastward.
The youth said, My prince, I thank thee!
He swung himself on the horse, and never shall rust
The bright steel. Then at the border post
He rode past, of white-peeled almond;
In the morning glow he saw the peaks of the mountain,
Fragrant woods were there of sandal.
Hey, hey, a sweet goal after all the changes!...
Then Vladimir sent three more messengers:
Alyosha and Nikita and Yekim.
He was their prince and also the prince of the dead.
They soon became intimate with India
And saw all the glory sublime.
They had inkstand and bird's feather
And parchment and wrote letters to him
(But not everyone has a Yellow Crane)
We stand on the summit here by a cedar;
We want to be sober and awake, we thirst,
We are still so thirsty that not an ocean
Extinguishes the fire, but in the service of the prince
We explore fair Hindostan.
We rode through the lands of the Khan
And came to the mighty mountain range
(We do not know the name), far the plan
Existed on the slope with veiled birches.
Greetings to Prince Vladimir from the district!
Is India all ablaze with love?
They saw in the land: all of stone
There are the temples and they are all together
Whitened, the domes are of precious stone,
The roofs of the houses are like morning light,
Red and yellow sands flow along the wide path,
Over them lie fine silken shawls,
One heard here of many a heroic deed
In India, this bright sweet bee-state.
The palace was built of white stone.
They arrived three at a time, where a woman
Seated as if of jade, sandal bast all around,
Around her in bowls stood the wine of dew.
They bowed down before her, their hair grey
Of dust: Tell if you are the mother
Of Peresmeta, the boyar's mother?
She said that she was not his mother,
The true mother has been missing for three days.
But now Peresmeta's true mother came,
Two at her side supported her arms,
Her face like honey and butter,
She spoke with a voice sweet and warm,
Why have you come? God have mercy,
Have mercy on you! Then they went to the food.
When one eats of this bread, which is not for the poor,
One eats, then immediately wants a second, quietly
Desires a third burning a soul orphan.
O burning desire! Hear, leap,
For your desire will be satisfied once!
Amelfa Timofeyevna spoke, the widow,
The mother of Peresmeta in the hall.
The knights led her, pale and wan,
Into the deep cellars to the harness
And said, You have now no more choice.
They wrote three years and not four
With pen and black ink on paper,
O Vladimir! Prince and mild star!
Sell Kiev for paper
And Cernigov for ink gladly;
Then come, O Prince, for it is truly beautiful here.
The beauties are like alabaster ornaments,
And overshadowed as by the sea of flame
Shines India. True, there is no bitter beer here,
But white drink of red flowers very
Enrapturing dreams. Prince, come thou hither!
But where was Peresmeta, the boyar?
He mounted the red fox and rode back
To the widow who was his mother,
Amelfa Timofeyevna, her eyes gentle,
So she said, smiling, Find, my son, happiness!
She put on her wiped glasses:
Now you are here again! That you are happy,
A beautiful human child, be God's will!
(This song is for beauty and the sea‘s silence.)
CANTO IV
Prince Vladimir said, Invite Pan Stepan,
Stepan to a merry feast.
So Boyar Stepan came on horseback
And came into the white-stone hall,
Crossed himself. They sat at the tables,
To refresh themselves with flour cakes and mead.
Stepan said, I prefer my courtyard much better,
The chambers are light and oaken, and noble.
The ground is covered with a fleece of grey beaver,
The seven posts are sheathed in sable,
Door hinges are gilded on the alders
And in the chests silver, pumice and pearls.
Hey, Vasilisa is the name of my young wife!
Like white snow is her face,
Like a beautiful vase is her body,
Like a moonlit night is her sight.
Many a carpet-work she succeeds in,
From her bow she shoots through golden rings.
Said Vladimir, He is proud, mighty!
Seize Stepan and cast him into prison,
Shut the gate with a key, and with a mighty hand
Set a watch; let him be in distress
In the red and yellow sands forever here.
That Vasilisa brings to Vladimir!
To Vasilisa came the mourning tidings,
That Boyar Stepan was a prisoner.
The tears fell down to her mouth,
A golden helmet held her black hair,
he girded herself with the saffiano
And rode away as a grim messenger.
The princess Eupraksia spoke to the prince,
She calls herself so, but she is no fierce messenger,
This is a woman for whom boyars thirst,
See her breast and see her red lips,
In walking she swims like a duck,
Sitting down, she presses her knees together.
Yekim, Nikita, Peresmeta,
Alyosha and Ilya were with Prince Vladimir.
At the prince's table twelve boyars drank joyfully
And looked at the messenger's sweet adornment:
The face of snow, the cheeks of purple blossom,
The fingers like morning glories were glowing.
Vladimir said to the fierce messenger, Alas!
Sit by me at the broad table,
Let us play chess together,
Of ivory is king and queen.
The beautiful messenger has won this game,
The king was checkmated by Vasilisa.
The messenger said,Prince, who will amuse thee?
Is there no one here skilled in the game of psaltery?
Cried Vladimir, Stepan may sit down,
I have looked upon him again graciously,
Let him now play the strings of the psaltery.
The grim messenger softened my heart.
Stepan began to play and sang softly
The song of Cargrad and the beautiful youth
And of Jerusalem on the lily way
And praised prince and princess full of virtue
And sang the mourning dance of the Hebrews:
Of the deer, pursued early in the morning...
Vasilisa in her messenger's dress
Took Stepan to her side: Hero and cedar,
Do you not recognise your sweet maiden?
The inkpot for thy swan's feather?
Then she tore off her clothes:
Behold my white bosom, it's me again!
Hey, then knew well that this maiden
Was the dearest, the sad Stepan.
Not that it snows in the May morning,
Not that a young swan swims by:
Stepan and Vasilisa hurry away
Through the wide white land to their haven.
CANTO V
I want to go to Jerusalem,
To pray with my brave host
To God! and kiss hot the diadem
And sanctuaries where the winds have blown,
Which sowed the storms of old,
Which Christ calmed! said Petroi. Embarrassed
The mother, was never at a loss for words.
I will pray for you and give you my blessing.
Stone burns with fire, mother's heart wants to move.
Petroi and his brave host
With purple ships on the waterway
Sailing in the morning, but not the Dvina,
Not the Smorodina like green jade,
Not the Pecora with their ships burden,
They sailed along the lake Ilmen.
O Lord of the wind, have mercy!
In the storm they came to the Caspian Sea,
There were waves like a wall.
They came to the mountain of the Saracens,
And Petroi climbed the high mountain,
Where clouds stretched white around the peak.
There lay a man's skull on the face
And lifted up his voice, That I may admonish thee,
I was at least as noble as you,
On this mountain will not rest the Khan
And not a youth with a sweet maiden,
On this mountain will lie Petroi's skull!
But Petroi stood there on the summit,
And white clouds wreathed very fine
Around a cedar with a raised top.
Then he saw before him a white stone
And saw the inscription as it stood on the rain:
Whoever wants to enjoy the stone in the light
And amuse himself, hear an oracle:
This one breaks his skull.
He skipped the stone the breadth, not the length.
The heroes came to the river Jordan
And entered Jerusalem,
They knelt in prayer in the cathedral,
And Petroi is alone in prayer
With his Divinity: like a white stone
And like a castle in the dawn.
Then he took of the bread and of the wine.
For all his loved ones, already dead,
He read the requiem. (O a poison to death!)
They all went to the waters of Jordan,
Where Jesus Christ was baptised indeed
And stood there as pale as a dove
And the spirit came upon him and that is true.
The Jordan waters are crystal clear,
And Petroi with the God-given graces
And the host apparently wanted
To bathe once in the waters of the Jordan,
And Petroi stood in the Jordan, water to the calves.
Mother wet Earth I want to see again,
I want to see again, Petroi sighed. Seed of the word
Sang the songs in Jerusalem one day,
On these tracks they went and came
To the high Saracen mountain. In the name
Of Christ, Petroi blessed the stone,
And enraptured (as by beautiful ladies)
He leapt over the white stone at the bank
The length and the breadth - and was dead!
Then to Petroi's mother went the host.
I don't know, did they see the lake Ilmen,
The Smorodina, the Neva or the Dvina?
They brought her woe with the message.
Amelfa Timofeyevna cried, Oh dear,
Oh dear, what have you left me, my child!?
And she turned pale like the first snow of the New Year,
And shadows flew over her like the wind:
I hope we'll soon be together in Heaven!
CANTO VI
Landed in the green bay of the sea
With purple ships is Boyar Roman.
He visited Prince Vladimir
And brought from Damask many a train,
From Cargrad an ornate diadem
And red foxes from Jerusalem.
The handsome youth came to the palace
And bowed before the image of the Redeemer.
He handed foxes, diadem, damask
In Kiev to the good prince, the mild,
And kissed Princess Eupraksia's white hands,
The snow-white hands. (God alone knows.)
Said Vladimir, the prince, For the gifts
Take principalities! But in the morning light
Said the boyar Roman, My prince, I rather think
Of Zabava, your nice niece.
In her green garden, in the morning dew,
I will build her a white terem.
The bells rang for morning Mass,
Then Zabava looked out of the window with pleasure.
She shook her black raven curls,
What is this, my sweet morning star?
Like the beauty of the third heaven
There stands a terem! My heart is softened!
Then she went into the terem, into the halls.
Not that it whispers in the green grasses,
Not from the golden posts does she hear it resound,
Not that it whispers in the purple cloths:
To the stringed song of aventures
Penetrates her ear through ajar doors.
Zabava walked in the terem like dawn
And beauty from the third celestial sphere.
There sat Roman, at his side a flute,
From his string-playing the seas roared.
He carried her on the bed of ivory
And bedded her softly in fine silk.
Then Bojar Roman went and closed the gate
And said, O quintessence of the elements,
My dear girl, lend me your ear,
I sing to thee the song of the golden duck.
But after each interlude
We must kiss sweetly with mouth and lips!
Once upon a time there was a servant of the prince,
He made himself a duck of gold.
Then he wished that it might never thirst,
And built for it a basin of water.
(Be kind to me, O mother of my muses,
And take me to thy white bosom.)
But the duck could not swim at all,
So he formed the duck once more,
Then it swam, and all seemed right.
(Let us exchange kisses without number.)
There lay an egg, and she began to peck,
And the little ones began to peck too.
Then he brought the duck to the prince,
Who put it in a bath of water forsooth,
The duck never needed to thirst again,
And the little ones were happy too.
(Way out of my soul's pain,
Let's give each other a heartfelt hug!)
The duck swam free in the water bath
And also the little golden children.
They pecked tenderly at the boiled egg,
And that pleased the prince well. (My being,
We want to be drunk with love more
Than of wine, even if it were a sea!)
So sang to the strings boyar Roman,
And open-minded Zabava listened.
Not a pelican flew by,
Not a red cloth hung on the Zastava,
That's the border with the white post:
The dawn rose in the east.
CANTO VII
David was a singer, and he loved God,
So he went alone with his strings
Around the famous Novgorod
And sat down on a white stone
And looked into the lake Ilmen.
Then the queen of the waters emerged,
She spoke thus, Thou shalt be in the sea at the banquet,
For I delight in the sound of thy voice;
There is also a white swan, little swans.
Then David built himself purple ships
And sailed down the Neva to the green sea,
Then he steered the ships in masterly fashion
To the land of the Golden Horde, and back again
When he came again, the winds blew heavy
And shook the ships with wild fury.
He said, The czarina of the sea is very angry with us,
She demands tribute from the deep.
We will draw lots, one of us will spill his blood.
David said to the brave host,
We will face the casting of lots.
His robe's silk came from China,
Floated over his hands, the bright ones.
The journeymen made lots of willow
And wrote names on them in that hour.
The lot with David's name took waves
Down to the green bottom of the sea.
I must go down into the sea!
Said David, Visibly I can do nothing more,
The tsarina demands me as tribute,
And I shall rest on the bottom of the sea.
Well then, I am content. Bring me
Blue ink in the inkpot and
Carved white swan's feather to me.
I write my will now, at rest
In my strappy chair, on the paper,
Till I lose myself in the sea czarina's realm.
Then he woke up at the bottom of the sea,
Saw the dawn on the water's edge
And opened his sweet mouth in amazement
And wanted to glide through the wide waves
And step into the white-stone hall
To the sea czarina on the shell throne,
Then she said, Strike me the psaltery strings
And sing to me of Heaven's dearest Son,
And I will give thee the sweet reward of my love.
When David began to play on the strings,
Sea and sky well weighed,
Then the sea-maiden began tenderly
To dance, and she flew about,
Like a prima donna bent
Her head in such a grace that the sea
Was sensitively stirred up and the waves
Jumped up easily and fell down heavily.
Then the tsarina cried out, David, nevermore!
(And David sang:)
O sea czarina! Your waters
Are loud murmurings, white waves
Are overpowered by the morning glories,
Rapids call to the rocky springs.
How, my soul, why your sorrow?
The Sea Czarina will love you one day!
The morning-star-woman sends her kindness,
The moonlit night is like a shower of tears.
The shell and the sea in my mind,
In waters of death I am full of grief.
How, my soul, why thy sorrow?
The sea-maiden will love thee one day!
Grace lead me to the altar in
The wondrous white-stone hall,
Where, on the shell throne, the Sea Czarina
With a necklace of reddish coral.
How, my soul, why thy sorrow?
The Sea Czarina will love you one day!
Then the sea czar came to David
With a beard of spray and pearly goggles
And with fountain sceptre crystal clear
And spoke to David in the stillness of the water,
If the tsarina of the sea gives thee a bride,
Then say, O Love, let thy will be done.
For if the Sea Czarina overthaws,
So do, then she hath looked upon thee with grace.
Then said the Sea Czar, and pearly was his robe,
His robe was pearly, his crown golden as ether
In the morning, Build me a city,
But I will tell you my name later.
And David saw the three times thousand metres
The sea czarina swim through the sea.
She sang with a sweet voice. What does he understand?
I bring you here the beloved,
Russalka of Kitesh, my son, so love her!
Russalka of Kitesh, the beautiful one,
In a robe of dragonflies' wings,
She loved David: Play me sweet notes,
That I may not be separated from the other fellows
(And are their tongues also like Dvina-snakes)
And listen their songs. - And she beckoned,
And white waters became red waves,
There is with David sweetly lovestruck
Russalka of Kitesh sank into eternal sleep...
CANTO VIII
Mother damp Earth was trembling
And all the dark green woods waver,
The rivers all, sweet and bitter,
From the rocks, the granite-blanketed,
Thunder and lightning come from heaven's gate:
Rides the warrior Svyatogor.
And Ilya Muromez leapt up the tree,
He saw the hero on the apple cart,
His shoulders broader than the space of the world,
His head towered above all the heavens,
But with his hands white as jade
He carefully carried a crystal chest.
Then the hero rode up to the tree and took
The ark, unlocked it with keys of gold
And silver, out of the crystal chest came
A maiden beautiful and sweet and lovely,
Wrapped in the red fleece of a deer
And half bared her body white as snow.
They took from the crystal chest tables
And cloths, drank honey-sweet mead
And dined on shells and salted fish.
Dalila was blown about by a wind,
She led him into the white tent,
And Sviatogor, the young hero, fell asleep.
But Dalila went to the apple tree,
There she saw Ilya Muromez in the treetop.
She said, I am the white foam of the sea,
And you are my unconquered peak.
So come down from the tree, let's make love.
He did, and so it is written.
Then Sviatogor awoke from his sleep
And set Dalila, white as jade
And softly fanned by the morning flora,
In that crystal chest that was unlocked,
Then they flew to the holy mountains.
There she sang in the ark full of peace:
Dobrynya rode from Schlüsselburg to white
Moscow with the golden bells,
That tinkled softly in the dawn's glow,
Night dew was still in his yellow curls.
There he rode (but where was the host?)
Down Chleb-and-Boris-Lane to Marina.
There he saw on the turret on the wall
Tenderly beak the he-dove with the she-dove.
From his soul's vast sea of sorrow
His spirit flared up like Pentecostal faith.
Then he called out (but where was the host?)
To the window in the house of Marina.
In front of the window he stretched the pearly bow
And let the arrow of longing from the string,
That flew through the window to the heart
Of Tugarin, for she embraced him.
Who is the hero? (and where is the host?)
Marina cried from the window in the sky.
She leaned wide to the girdle
From her window white, the frame red:
Why me this? Why this sorrow for me?
You gave my beloved his death!
So come now (but where is the host?)
Up into my terem! said Marina.
Then he went into the high terem white
And saw the beauty's face, weary.
She called up the dawn softly,
And he was overcome by the voice:
Come to the curtain! (Where is the host?)
Then Marina opened the curtain.
Then the souls trembled as they met,
Sword-bearer and beloved in the place.
May they sleep eternally in love,
Blissful in their deathbed.
(My heart sang this, far from my China,
Forgive me the song of Marina.)
CANTO IX
By mild Prince Vladimir in the hall
And by the princess Eupraksiya were
Gathered the boyars for the feast:
Alyosha, Ilya, Svyatogor, the hosts,
Nikita, Peresmeta, with their manners
Very fine, Yekim, only David was not there.
But young Cimbal came, despite dangers
And without fear, whatever happened,
At last Torokanko came near to the princess.
Said Cimbal, Who among you knows a bride
Equal to me, beyond the sea,
Her face white and red and dewy,
Poppy blossoms her cheeks, breasts heavy
Of comforting milk, leaping like rabbits,
She walks like a hind in white fleece,
With dear eyes, lashes long and fair,
Yarrow-fine brows moreover?
Like a wave her sweet grace flows.
Said Torokanko, Father, I know,
Beyond the green sea somewhere
Is a beautiful tsarina white
And red and bride of King Solomon
In the beloved city of Jerusalem. O,
I would sail there in the May,
Though I be foolish, and rough, and rude,
But for Solomonida's sake I would be free,
That lovers may be happy in love!
Then Torokanko had three
Ornate purple ships and adorned with furs
And adorned with the skins of vixens
And from overseas over the waves
Stones and gazelles' hoofs came from overseas
And also from India a diadem.
And ships fly, and the waves roll.
And Torokanko said, I breath in the clay,
I will enter into Jerusalem by the golden gate.
But Czar Solomon is not at home,
Czarina Salomonida is alone.
Those who are together like varnish and glue,
Are now parted like sea and mountain top.
Torokanko behaved with dignity and refinement
And presented himself to Salomonida
And gave her many gifts great and small,
Jerusalem all in the Mayflower
She showed him and led him to the Golden Gate.
The boatmen brought more gifts,
And each one thought, I'll do her good.
They gave her of the Slavic drink,
And in it they decided on deep peace.
Torokanko said, full of humility, You
Shall drink of the overseas,
We shall drink cup after cup
And become drunk with intoxicating,
We shall become ever-lovers!
Said Torokanko, O how beautiful you are,
Salomonida, my girlfriend sweet
And soft and white (forgive me, Jesus Christ)
Like morning dew on a white fleece,
A peach tree in a new paradise
Blossoms not so sweet with pink blossom
And pure fragrance as thou, and moreover
You are as beautiful as a pawlownia tree
In the snow, where a young phoenix glowed.
Peony-soft, my love, is your skin
And your arms white as orchids,
O thy peach cheeks sweetly dewy
Enrapture me, who can resist thee?
I would swim with thee in the lakes
Of Galilee and in the Dead Sea!
Waft with thee over the oceans
And wave with thee in the host of heaven
To the morning star, beloved Salomonida!
Said Salomonida, Wouldst thou woo me
For a tsar or a prince,
Boyars or kings or you?
Shall I brush the manes of the Hun's horses?
In my soul unquenchable thirst
Is once for the silent ocean!
On heavenly cornices, pillars, ridges
The stars hang, on the billows
In the arch I see the Pleiades and the Swan.
There I see the star of the weaver
And once near also the shepherd's star,
The weaver and the shepherd
In sweet love are near, who otherwise are far away.
I see the Great Bear and the Little Bear,
The dragon in the Christian firmament.
The sea of heaven above the seas of the world
My soul's yearning calls it
As our home, where the star of love burns!
Now I will be still to my loving.
Now I will be silent to my love.
(Thus they spoke, I have written it down,
That this may remain in your memory.
That never a soul may be deceived,
I proclaim that after this night.
There is also a blossoming in the blossom shoot
And resurrection in morning-red splendour!
Too poor my verse before that beautiful love!)
CANTO X
Mikhail was young and fair of face
And came from Prince Vladimir's court,
Riding by the green sea in the morning light
And stopped at the sea's edge: What is here?
Cypress groves on the sea's edge,
But on the green sea a white foam.
But there was a white swan,
Who spoke to him in a human voice,
By heaven, the home of my ancestress!
When I swim here through the waters,
Marvel not, for thou shalt see me otherwise:
I will stand before you as a beautiful girl.
There sat before Mikhail on the white stone
On the shore a beautiful maiden,
On her face was morning light,
As if she had emerged from eternity,
Her body was almost as white as snow;
Then Mikhail sighed softly, Oh dear, oh dear...
On her lap lay a white linen,
Around her left arm a cloak of red
Thrown, hanging down. With open senses
Mikhail hardly grasped it. In the morning light
The white beauty with the soft breasts
Offered him lips that kissed him sweetly.
The white linen covered her loins
And was like white foam on the waves.
And Mikhail did not know how to turn away
From the figure of the beauty, like a dream
She appeared to him, who suspected her shame,
So sweet that he was overcome with rapture!
O our prince and master, Vladimir,
The white beauty I wish for my bride!
Mikhail cried, drunk, but not with beer,
But of love! Be entrusted to me
Avdotya Lichovidovna, White Swan!
And bless us from heaven my ancestress!
And he got the one he so wooed.
But then the time flew by,
Avdotya White Swan died!
She has gone to eternity!
O woe, cried Mikhail, who is it that comes to meet me
And takes me to his heart and speaks blessing to me?
And Mikhail went into the princely palace,
To the secluded chamber where
His beloved lay dead on damask.
It is understandable that now I weep tears,
Mikhail said, she's already in that place
Of happiness... But I remember the word...
They had spoken thus, He who first
To the other world across the waters,
Has faith; from the grave only one verst
Removed from the grave the next who finds love
In the hereafter, and there never weeps tears,
Because lovers are sweetly united there!
And Mikhail became like a white stone
And was lowered into the open grave.
A pilgrim passed by all alone
With a yellow hat and a shepherd's crook,
Who spoke the word of love, By the Lord, yes,
Mikhail and Avdotya will arise!
Then the girl rose in sheer beauty
As from the sea so from her death,
And Mikhail came, and found at once sounds.
And was (like her) like snow and dawn,
That they swam in the sea of blisses
And in love's song they join together!
Beyond death was eternity
And such beauty, not yet to be transfigured,
Blessed souls were open, wide,
Full of Holy spirit, over the seas.
(Heavenly love was painted by Titian,
Sung by such a little swan.)
CANTO XI
Princess Eupraksia with Prince
Vladimir went on an Easter Friday
To Mass, hungry in soul and thirsting
For salvation as after a May day.
The sky was black late on this consecration day,
From six to nine a black cloud came.
Then said the high priest Method, O day!
How bloody thou art, but fortunately for the people!
In Petersburg Karina went home from the colonnade.
Kyril went through the darkness in the snow
And came to the high terem of Karina,
Then he said, Will I see the fair one?
Like stars (O heavenly hosts)
Appears the head, as on the Dvina
White is a swan from St. Petersburg
The lovely one. (God has forgiven me and her,
Happiness gave the creative demiurge!)
Kyril entered the Terem through the gate.
On Good Friday, golden bells sounded Kyrie,
Kyril crossed himself as written,
And went to the beauty with the black curls,
To embrace her, to love her dearly.
But what Stenka was doing at the time,
I know not, Karina's bridegroom.
But she received Kyril in the house, the beloved,
Her dark eyes like the waters of the Dinva,
She stood there in the crimson silk of China.
Glances of mothers and of little children
Are as refreshing as sweet bread and wine.
Karina looked with another soothing
Spirit to the beloved, her stone
In her treasure. Crystal was the glow
Of eyes like an endless sea.
Kyril spoke thus, Fortunately you are alone
On your bed, dearest, criss-crossed
I wanted to embrace you warmly, for I love you very much.
With kisses of my mouth I would kiss
Karina. Kisses are like anointing oils.
Tears flow from her dark eyes,
For melancholy are mind and soul.
He took the lute from the marble stele
And sang to her softly of a sweet dream,
Of pearly gates and paths like jewels...
A bed of ivory was in the room
And on it many pillows soft as dove's fluff.
But then a maid came into the mess hall
And turned to the lowly servant,
And so the maid to the youth Stenka said,
My prayerful Stenka, God loves the right!
We must know what is good and what is bad.
So get up (she said) and go home,
Put on your ear, be ready for battle!
Together at this time is like varnish with glue
Sweetness with bitterness, ground and root germ.
Stenka went to the terem of Karina
And knocked once on the golden gate
With strength from a heavenly host,
He knocked once more, in his ear
The hallelujah of the choir still sounded,
Now Stenka knocked a third time.
Karina in the silk gauze flor
Opened the gate, led him into her hall
And hugged him for the first, second, third time.
Why don't you go adorned on the day of mass?
Good Friday is God's favourite custom!
Stenka said. Ah, Karina in the pallor
Of face sighed sweet breath,
Go, my friend, a wineskin hangs in the smoke,
But I have from my head to my heart,
In my breasts and in my belly,
Yea, even to the girdle, very bad pains.
But now let us light the consecrated candles.
The dawn did not shimmer up
Over the white flood of the sea of tears,
Then the young man found the death he longed for,
And to the bottom flowed the red blood.
Then, in her soul's mild courage,
Two sharp knives the sweet maiden took.
And plunged in, good to the death
Opened were her veins wide....
(Good Friday Jesus once died for our bliss!)
CANTO XII
At Prince Vladimir's table once was the grandson
Of Timofeyevna, worthiest of ladies.
And finally beautiful like God's angel
Was this young hero, Jekim by name.
In the Heavenly Tsar - Christ - believe forever!
(White stone of the green sea.)
Jekim went on the proud purple ship
And said, Whatever it may cost,
I want the ointments! Fear not the reef,
Though the south and the east
Intercourse with the west and the north!
I will never murder myself unconsecrated!
He came to the military shore,
But there blew impetuous winds
Against his ship without mercy,
Then Jekim became a child again
And knew not where to go in his anguish,
As the waves sang to him shuddering songs.
Suddenly the winds shifted, and the waves
Smashed his ship, and the sailors
From the sea were dragged to the bottom,
Jekim alone after his fate
Came to the hem of a lonely isle:
There he gave thanks to the dearly beloved Saviour!
Why is the host gone from me?
So he sighed in his loneliness.
But in the highly famous city of Christina
By the green sea went the white maiden
With name Anastasia, entwined
By a dewy morning red.
Then came robbers to steal the maiden,
And took her across the wide sea,
The black ships flew down like doves,
The banner waved in the wind:
A skull on the cross of bones.
And Anastasia felt alone.
They came to the military shore,
The captain with the sinister host.
They brought Anastasia, like jade
So white, born in the town of Christina,
To a hut, to a small room.
Three nights she wept before the wall.
The robber chief came from the Crimea,
With his sword he struck off many an ear,
Even the head. But Jekim was lonely
No longer, for the robber's cruel choir
In the loneliness of the isle urged to rob
Jekim. Would that I had the wings of doves,
Would I had the wings of the dawn,
I would flee far to the mountains!
So sang Jekim. On a flute of the clouds
It was played by the wind in the district
(Whether Zephyr or Aeol I do not know).
The young man's face was pale.
The captain said, You no longer see the Dvina,
Nor the Moskva, nor the Smorodina,
Nor the prince, nor ever the host,
You will not discover the city of Christina,
Because I'll lock you up without mercy
To the room on the military shore!
Jekim was locked in the dungeon,
Where Anastasia was locked up.
There sank no dew, there was no soft fleece,
Where Anastasia was shut up,
Three long years they stayed there
And slowly began to love death.
They must have been freed by the host
Of Prince Vladimir, who came from the Crimea
From a campaign and heard in Christina
Of the incident. Then Jekim
And Anastasia passed away,
Where over them golden bells tinkled.
PART TWO
CANTO I
In the throne city of Kiev by Prince
Vladimir a wet banquet was held,
A feast for the many princes
And boyars, knights, merchants, peasants.
The sun was already shining beautifully,
The joy of the feast is already at its height.
Said Vladimir, Boyars, princes,
Knights, merchants, men of the village,
All of you are well-worn with wives,
I alone, the prince, am without a sweetheart!
Do you know a beautiful prince's daughter
As a partner for your prince?
She must be beautifully grown, beautifully shaped,
Beautiful, her face beautiful, her speech lovely
And her gait like the gait of a swan!
For I want to live with one,
To consult on the problems of the world,
And enjoy myself with her at night!
Princes and boyars, knights, merchants,
Men of the village, in the throne-town Kiev,
That you may have one to worship!
All at the banquet fell silent,
None answered the prince.
Only Dunajushka Ivanovich
Came from the solid oak table.
He is heavily drunk, but he does not waver,
Talks, but does not confuse his tongue,
He bows to the pious prince,
Vladimir, I know a princess,
Who alone would be your equal.
In the land of Lithuania with the king
Are two beautiful royal daughters,
Younger is Natasha the King's daughter,
Older is Apraxa the king's daughter.
Natasha rides like a knight,
Apraxa sits at home alone.
Apraxa is very beautifully formed,
Beautiful is her countenance, sweet is her speech,
Her gait like the gait of a swan.
With Apraxa you live together
And consult in world problems
And enjoy her at night with pleasure!
CANTO II
Batyga gathered the armies,
Had forty thousand hosts,
And the son Batyga Batygovich
Had forty thousand armies.
And Tarakannik had
Also forty thousand hosts,
And the Djuk, the cunning Satan,
Had forty thousand hosts.
Water did not flow in the spring,
Kiev was surrounded by armies.
Hawks must fly around the throne city
A whole summer day in the light.
And Batyga writes to the Prince of Kiev,
Old dog, Prince Vladimir, you mutt,
Send me a man for a duel
Or hand over the throne city of Kiev
Without battle and without bloodshed.
The prince was sad and full of grief,
Vladimir, full of grief, full of grief!
All the knights were gone from Kiev.
Ilya Muromez was in the Southland
And Dobrynya by the great mountain
And Alyosha over the blue sea.
There was no knight in the throne city of Kiev.
The tavern rabble spoke to the prince there,
Our sun, Vladimir, our ruler,
With us is Vassily Ignayevich,
He can deal with Batyga.
He's already drunk away his wealth,
Vassily has drunk it all away,
And Vassily has not a ruble
More to drown his hangover in wine!
Our sun, Vladimir, our ruler,
Has now passed through all the taverns of Kiev,
Found Vasily resting behind the stove.
And Vasily came down from the stove,
Bowed low before the pious prince,
Our sun, Vladimir, our ruler,
Thou knowest nothing of my deep grief!
My grief is greater than your sorrows!
Ah, my heavy skull burns and aches!
Ah, the veins of my shame are branches!
How they tremble in the storm!
Alas, I have no wine in my cup
To drown my great sorrow!
Pour wine into my empty cup,
Then I'll destroy your Batyga.
Vladimir poured wine into his cup,
Red wine, as much as a bucket,
Beer he poured into a second cup,
Vodka he poured into the third cup,
And they poured it all together!
Yes, that was seven full buckets!
And Vasily drank it all once!
And Vasily jumped on Kiev's walls
And Vasily grabbed a bow and arrow
And Vasily shot into Batyga's tent,
Killed Batyga Batygovich,
Killed the oath-keeper Tarakannik,
Killed the cunning Satan!
And Batyga wrote to the pious prince,
Vladimir, you old dog and mutt,
Give me Vasiliy the murderer,
Who murdered my friends!
But then Vassily Ignayevich went away
Through the horse stables, those of maple,
Seeking the unridden racer,
Sits on the horseless steed
And Vasily rides to Batyga,
Begging pardon: my sins
Forgive me, my great sins!
Give me a cup of red wine,
Give me a cup of golden ale,
Give me a cup of clear vodka
And I will defeat Kiev for you.
Batyga trusted this word,
Gave a bucketful of red wine,
Gave a bucket full of beer,
Poured a bucket full of vodka,
Poured all the liquor together,
Seven buckets were filled with intoxicating liquor
And Vasily drank it all once!
And Vasily said to Batyga,
Give me forty thousand of your warriors,
To attack the throne city of Kiev.
And Batyga trusted this word,
Gave him forty thousand heroic warriors.
Vasily rode from the throne city of Kiev
And slew the forty thousand warriors
And raised his strong hand, his right hand,
And his heart was full of hot fire
And he slew and destroyed all,
Left nothing for Batyga to sow.
And Batyga rode away from Kiev
And he swore with solemn oath,
Gods! Never again will I go to Kiev!
Never me and never my sons!
Never me and never my grandchildren!
There are men in the throne city of Kiev,
Church hymns resound in the throne city,
High-pitched from Novgorod the bells,
Sweet are the kisses of the water nymphs,
Hard and frosty it is in the north,
In Scoboda the girls are dumb,
Beautiful women have big breasts,
Priests are accomplices of pious warriors!
CANTO III
Vasilissa spoke, the beautiful one,
To the boyar, her Gusli player,
Was I not always the barrel of ink,
In which you dipped the swan's feather?
CANTO IV
In the throne city by Prince
Vladimir a wet banquet was held
For boyars, princes, knights of Russia.
At the banquet there were also two widows,
Widow Blud and Widow Cas, the old ones.
And the widow Blud took a cup
Full of wine in her white hands,
Carried to the widow Cas the full cup,
Wooed with the cup for the fair
Maid Caina for her son Choten.
But the widow Cas, she took the cup
With her hands, poured the wine of the cup
On Widow Blud's face, on her cloak,
On the coat of costly furs,
Said, Ha you bitch, ha, you whore!
It will not come to this, that you take Caina
To be thy Choten's wife.
How fornicated thy spouse
Once in Novgorod, so whored thy son,
That freak who always rides
With the much-loved boy, mischief he does,
He goes about the town looking for beans,
Where a woman invites him to lunch.
But Caina sits in a silk dress
In the tower of ivory alone,
No wild gales blow about her,
Nor summer heat scorch her,
Rain showers do not wet her dress,
Her neighbours honour her with respect,
But your drunkard shall not mock her!
For Caina has a brother too,
A handsome brother, a dear brother,
A strong knight, a good horseman,
He'll beat up your Choten all right.
Ha, if I please, I'll make Choten
For Caina to be the servant of the house,
Let him sweep her kitchen,
Let him feed her animals,
Carry bins to the street!
Or I'll sell him as a slave
To Caina's very best girlfriend!
How disgraced Widow Blud stood up, sadly
She went away from the prince's banquet:
How she has soiled my dear fur!
Now stained is only my dear cloak!
Widow Blud came home, and there she met
Choten, her offspring, who said,
My dear lady, my dear mother!
Why do you come sadly from the banquet?
Why dost thou go forth so unhappy?
Were you not given a place at the table
Or did they not hand you the cup
Or did an insolent drunkard mock thee?
The widow answered her son,
O my light, my dear son, my boy!
I had a place at the table for the meal
And they handed me the full cup
And no drunkard mocked me boldly,
But widow Cas mocked me,
Widow Cas, the mother of Caina,
For with a cup full of wine
I wooed the lovely Caina
For my little son Choten Chotenushka.
But the widow did not drink from the cup,
Poured the wine on my bright face,
Poured the wine on my coat's fur,
Said to me, You bitch and you whore!
How fornicated thy spouse
Once in Novgorod, so whored thy son,
That freak, he always rides
With the much-loved boy, mischief he does,
He's out on the town looking for beans,
Where a woman invites him to lunch.
But Caina sits in a silk dress
In the tower of ivory alone,
Where wild storms do not blow about her,
Where she is not scorched by the heat,
Where the rain does not wet her dress,
Where the neighbours adore her, respect her,
Where no insolent drunkard mocks her!
Caina has a strong brother,
A handsome brother, a dear brother,
A strong knight, a good horseman,
He'll beat your Choten to a pulp.
Ha, I like it, I'll make this Choten
To Caina's servant of the house,
Choten shall then sweep her kitchen,
Carry bins out to the street,
Feed her animals in the stables!
Ha, I like it, I'll make him a slave
For Caina's very best girlfriend!
Said Choten to the widow mother,
Caina shall pay for this mockery!
Choten rode with the beloved boy
To the ivory tower of Caina,
He struck the gate with his club,
There was no storm, no thunder, no lightning,
But the tower's gate was broken
And the sashes of the windows beat loud,
That Caina almost died of fright!
Choten, however, wooed Caina:
Fairest and loveliest Caina,
If you come to me in all honour,
I'll take you as my wife!
If you do not come, I will give you to the squire!
Your beautiful white teeth will
Fall from your red mouth!
Your long black silken hair
Will turn grey and fall from your skull!
Your legs will part - - -
CANTO V
Across the sea, the blue sea, the blue,
From the green sea bay come,
From the tsar beyond the blue sea
Thirty purple ships have come
With Prince Soloviev, the wise.
The purple ships are all magnificent,
But one is the most beautiful of all:
This ship has bright eagle eyes,
Eagle eyes, heavenly sapphires,
Its eyebrows sable skins
From Irkutsk in the white land of Siberia,
Each whisker like a sharp knife,
His ears Saracen lances,
With white stoats hanging from them.
These came to the prince of Kiev,
To Prince Vladimir, the Sun.
On the nave was a white chair,
Was made of the white tooth of the walrus,
And the armchair was covered with velvet.
Soloviev sat in the white armchair.
O my captain and o my sailor,
What can I give Vladimir as a present?
The captain said, the sailor said,
Soloviev, you have a treasure of gold
And also a treasure of red fox fur,
A treasure of silk from China, too.
This gift will not be taken amiss.
So they came to the throne city of Kiev,
Dropped anchor in the Dnieper River.
Soloviev took his great treasure of gold
And the great treasure of red fox fur
And the treasure of silk cloth from China,
Came to Prince Vladimir, the Sun,
He bowed before the icon
Of HAGIA SOPHIA - God's Wisdom -
Greeted Vladimir, the pious prince,
Greeted Apraxa also, the beautiful princess,
Gave the prince his great treasure of gold
And the great treasure of red fox fur
And the treasure of silk cloth from China.
Yes, the prince and the lovely princess
Well liked the gifts.
So said Vladimir, the mild,
Take for your gift boyar courts
In possession and noble princely courts.
But Soloviev gave this in reply,
Vladimir, you mild sun of Kiev,
I do not desire boyar courts
For possession and noble princely courts,
Give me nothing but a small field,
Unploughed, uncultivated field,
For in your fair niece's garden,
The virgin Zabava‘s garden,
I will build a marble dwelling,
In the garden with the red plums,
In the garden with the hazelnuts
I will build a marble flat.
Vladimir answered Soloviev,
I must first consult with the princess.
But Apraxa was well disposed towards him,
So the prince gave him a field.
Soloviev went to the purple ships:
Up, sailors, take the tools of labour,
Build me a beautiful marble dwelling
In the lovely Zabava garden,
In the garden with the red plums,
In the garden with the hazelnuts
Build me a beautiful marble dwelling.
That evening, as the woodpeckers hammer,
The sailors were building the marble flat.
Wonderful was the beautiful marble dwelling.
Like the sun was the first hall,
Like the moon was the second hall,
Like Venus was the third hall.
In the morning the lovely Zabava was
At Mass in the church of God,
There she saw in her plum garden,
Saw in the garden with the hazelnuts
A beautiful marble dwelling.
Said Zabava to the old nurse,
My much-loved wet nurse,
Look at this wonderful flat!
The loving nurse replied,
O most honeyed Zabava,
Now happiness has come to you!
And Zabava let her hair loose
And Zabava painted her lips red
And Zabava hangs the shell necklace
Between her beautiful breasts
And Zabava went into her garden,
Then stepped into the beautiful marble flat.
In the sun flat was a treasure of gold,
In the hall of the moon shone silver,
In the hall of Venus the psaltery sounded,
Soloviev was there the gusli player.
Zabava's legs were trembling.
Soloviev, scholar in love,
Took Zabava by the white hands,
Carried her on the bed of velvet and silk,
Laying her in the soft cushion of the bed,
Said, Why are you trembling, Zabava?
We are old enough to make love!
Said Zabava, I am ready for marriage!
Ah, they kissed and made love,
They put gold rings on each other's fingers.
But Soloviev's mother found out about it
And decided to prevent the wedding:
Soloviev, my son, go to China,
Handle money and gather wealth,
Then you can take the Zabava!
Soloviev had sailed to China,
There came to the throne town of Kiev one,
Who was a foolish fellow, a very foolish fellow,
George Mikhailovich, the fool!
Vladimir questioned this fool,
Have you heard of Soloviev, the wise man?
George Mikhailovich answered,
Soloviev the Wise lies imprisoned
In prison in far-off China.
There gave Vladimir, the mild sun,
To George Mikhailovich the Zabava,
The lovely one, to wife.
So they went to the Church of God,
There they took the sacrament of marriage.
When they came out of the Church of God
To celebrate the wedding with joy and gaiety,
Soloviev approached with ninety ships,
Greeted his mother reverently,
Greeted Vladimir, the mild sun,
And Apraxa too, the beautiful moon,
Sat quietly at the table of oak.
Vladimir ordered the wine to be brought,
Red wine from the Ararat Mountains,
He handed Soloviev the full cup.
Then the lovely Zabava spoke,
O my uncle Vladimir of Kiev,
This is Soloviev, my beloved,
To whom I have already given my love!
George Mikhailovich, the fool,
Now has the blessing of the fat pope,
But never in my bed I will
Give him bodily love,
As I loved Soloviev in my soul!
CANTO VI
In the garden, in the green garden
Walked the radiant Princess Marfa.
Before her rose a long serpent,
Winding around her red shoes,
Coiled around her black stockings,
He struck his tail against her white thighs...
The princess Marfa became pregnant,
And bore a child and gave birth to a child.
And the beautiful sun went down
Behind black mountains, blue seas.
Light stars shone in the sky
And the sorcerer was born:
Volch, the master of magic in Russia,
In the motherland, in the pious Russia.
And he grew to the fifth year,
He walked on the black earth,
Then Mother damp Earth shook,
Wild beasts ran in the woods,
Birds flew up to the clouds,
Fishes wandered in the blue sea.
Volch, the master of magic in Russia,
Learned all the arts and all the wisdom,
Learned all the tongues of all the tribes.
Seven years he went to school,
Until he reached the twelfth year,
Learned all the arts and all the wisdom,
Learned all the tongues of all the tribes.
Volch, the master of magic in Russia,
Wanted to go to the tsardom of China,
Went thither with his thirty knights,
But they could not pass the Wall,
Invincible was the Wall of China.
Only a butterfly can cross it.
Volch turns into a butterfly,
His thirty knights become butterflies.
So they overcame the wall,
Entered the tsardom of China.
Then Volch said to his thirty knights,
Strike them all with the edge of the sword,
Old men, fathers, mothers, daughters, sons!
Bathe in the blood of our enemies!
Let only seven thousand virgins live!
So the thirty knights murdered,
But Volch took to wife
That beautiful Czarina of China,
That beautiful Helen of China!
But his thirty knights took
Thirty maidens for concubines.
CANTO VII
Samson looked as he rode along,
A man, trying to catch him up,
But can't catch him, the man was always
Samson one step ahead in his wandering.
Said Samson, Noble wanderer, wait,
I have no other way to catch up with you.
The wanderer stopped. And Samson said,
Noble wanderer, tell me your name!
Said the wanderer, Milan is my name.
Samson said to the wanderer Milan,
How shall I know the fate of my life?
Milan said, Ride to the crossroads,
Ride to the left and let the racer run,
Till thou come to the mountains northward,
In the mountains, under the oak tree,
Lives a carpenter, and thou shalt ask him.
So Samson let the racer run,
Came to mountains, forests, trees, ponds,
Rode three days, came to the carpenter.
He wove hair in his hut,
Weaving man's hair and woman's hair,
Blond hair of man, black hair of woman,
He plaited them together in a knot.
Samson said to the carpenter,
Why do you braid hair together?
Said the carpenter to the knight Samson,
Husband and wife are meant for each other.
Said Samson to the carpenter,
Which lady then will I love?
Said the carpenter to the knight Samson,
Ride thou to Kiev, to the throne-city,
Forty years has thy love lain
On the heap of dung in front of her hut!
But Samson thought with fury,
I'll ride to the throne city of Kiev
And murder the lady on the dunghill!
So he came to the throne city of Kiev,
Found the lady lying on the dunghill,
All around her was hard fir bark.
Samson drilled the point of his sword
Into the fir bark around the lady,
Left her a hundred round roubles,
Rode away to Moscow's forty churches.
But the lady on the miste, behold,
The hard fir bark fell from her body
And she was a beautiful woman
And a wonderful wench.
But with the hundred round roubles
She traded and gained wealth,
Till all Russia spoke of her beauty.
Samson heard of the famous beauty,
Her beauty, he wooed this wench,
Took this fair damsel to wife.
When she lay down to her nuptial bed,
To be wedded in love's delight,
Samson beheld on the woman's bosom
A scar: whence came the scar?
Behold, said the woman, seven years ago
A strange man came into my hut,
Stabbed me in my bosom with his sword,
The fir bark fell off
From my body, I awoke,
Saw a hundred round roubles lying there.
So Samson in the spirit realised:
No man can escape his fate
And man's love for woman
Is predestined by God's providence!
CANTO VIII
In the open field Ilija comes
To a tent of white linen,
Standing under a great oak,
A mighty and wet oak.
In the tent was the bed for a hero
Of the width of a double bed.
And Ilija tied the horse's reins
To the mighty and moist oak,
He lay down on the hero's bed
And fell asleep. His heroic sleep was strong
And for three days the noble knight slept.
On the third night the knight heard
A sound from the north: Mother Earth
Shook and the dark forests swayed
And the rivers came out of their beds.
Did the horse strike its hoof against Mother Earth,
On the wet Mother black Earth,
But cannot rouse Ilija.
And then the steed spoke in a human voice,
Up, Ilija! Sleeping, resting,
Do you not foresee the trouble on your head?
For Samson is coming on horseback to the tent.
Let me run into the field, the free field,
You, however, climb the damp oak!
Ilija jumped hastily to his feet,
The horse ran into the open field,
But he climbed the damp oak.
Look, here comes a strong knight,
Tall as a forest of oaks,
With his head towering in the clouds,
On his shoulders he carries an ark,
Of crystal was this Ark of the Covenant.
The knight rode to the damp oak,
Took from his shoulders that ark,
Unlocked it with a golden key to heaven,
Up came a woman, a beautiful woman,
Such a beautiful woman no one has seen,
On earth never one saw such a woman,
Beautiful she grew like a beech tree,
Her gait was noble, like the gait of a swan,
Her eyes bright and eagle-eyed,
Her brows black as sables,
Beneath her dress of fine silk
Was the white body - a delight!
When she had emerged from the ark,
She laid the table with good food,
With wholesome and sweet dishes,
She took from the crystal ark
Green tea from the far-off Middle Kingdom.
Samson ate with his wife Delilah,
Entered into the tent with his wife Delilah,
To feast on his wife!
Both entertained with pleasure
To feast in the tent!
When the knight Samson fell asleep
And the beautiful wife Delila
Came to the mighty and moist oak,
She saw Ilija sitting in the oak,
Thus said Delilah to Ilija,
Hey, thou art a man after my own heart!
From the mighty and wet oak
Descend to the moist Mother Earth,
Let us make love in the grass!
But wouldst thou not refresh me,
I'll wake the strong knight Samson,
Tell him that thou hast urged me to sin,
To fornicate in the grass!
Ah, what should Ilija do?
No one can handle a woman.
Such a woman as this woman Delila
Is irresistible, invincible!
And who wants to compete with Samson?
So Ilija descended from the oak
Quickly down to the moist Mother Earth
And made the woman Delila very happy!
Finally, this beautiful woman took him,
Put him in her skirt pocket,
Then to wake up the knight Samson.
Samson, awakened from his sleep,
Put his beloved wife Delilah
Now into the crystal ark of the covenant,
Locked the ark with a golden key,
He mounted his noble steed,
Rode to the mighty Ural Mountains.
Then the steed began to stumble. Samson
Beat the noble steed with his whip,
With the silk whip Samson lashed
His steed's flanks, which quivered.
But then the steed spoke in a human voice,
Once my back carried a hero,
But today I carry the beautiful wench
And of the heroes two on my back.
Is it any wonder that I stumble?
Now Knight Samson drew from the Ark
His beloved delightful wife Delila,
From Delila's pocket of her skirt
Samson drew out Ilija, asked,
What had happened. Ilija said
Everything, how Delila made him happy!
Samson loved the woman Delila
And Ilija was his brother in the cross
And so the three rode off into the distance.
CANTO IX
Ah! Dobrynya spoke to his mother,
Son of Nikita to the mother of his body,
Why hast thou borne me to grief?
If you had to give birth to me, mother,
You should have wrapped my head,
Wrapped my head with white cloth
And cast me into the sea of the north,
Then in eternity I would lie in the sea,
Then forever I'd be Dobrynya
And I wouldn't ride through Mother Russia
And I wouldn't kill poor souls
And I did not make mothers weep
And I did not make children orphans!
The widow mother answered him,
Oh, how I would have loved to have borne you
With the beauty of the beautiful Joseph,
With the strength of the vigorous Samson.
But I gave birth to you, my son Dobrynya,
Full of great love, full of great suffering!
God gave you these gifts,
Strength and beauty were not given to you.
Dobrynya was angry with his mother,
Went out and saddled the racer,
Put on the blankets and the saddle,
The Circassian saddle on his back,
Tightened the harness, mounted the racer.
There the much-loved one led him,
His much-loved wife Natasha.
But the widow mother took her leave,
Turned back and went to her home.
But the much-loved wife Natasha
Cried, Oh Nikita's son, Dobrynya,
When can I expect you back?
When will you come back to our hut?
Said Dobrynya, Oh, Natasha, dearest,
You'll wait for me for seven years,
I won't return in seven years,
Live as a widow or become the wife
Of another noble knight of Russia,
But never take Alyosha for your husband!
Now Natasha, too, took her leave, returned
To the house and wept bitter tears.
Seven years have passed,
When Alyosha came to the widow mother:
Dobrynya lies dead in the field!
When the widow mother heard this,
She wept, My son, my son, Dobrynya,
Dead my son, my son is dead, Dobrynya!
Vladimir, the mild prince of Kiev,
And Apraxa, Kiev's fair princess,
Have come to Natasha to ask her
To woo a knight of Russia.
Alyosha was the first to apply,
But Natasha swore by her nurse's grave,
Seven more years I will wait!
And so seven more years passed,
Until Alyosha came to the widow mother:
Dobrynya lies dead in the field!
Vladimir, the mild Prince of Kiev,
And Apraxa, Kiev's fair princess,
Have come to Natasha to ask her
To woo a knight of Russia.
So Alyosha applied first of all.
And Natasha gave her yes to Alyosha!
But Dobrynya rode into Russia's vastness,
When his racer stumbled, Dobrynya
Said to the racer, Do you foresee mischief?
And from the sky a voice sounded,
I am Yuri, my name is also Saint George,
O son of Nikita, Dobrynya, listen,
God's beloved knight of Russia,
Your wife Natasha takes Alyosha,
Make haste to stop this wedding!
And Dobrynya rode back to Kiev,
His mother didn't recognize the son,
When Dobrynya spoke to his mother,
Brother of the Cross am I of Dobrynya.
And Dobrynya sent me to you, mother,
In the cellar lies a strong cudgel
And a poor peasant's dress
And Dobrynya's string, the psaltery,
All this I shall take.
So Dobrynya went in a peasant's dress
With the stringed instrument and the cudgel
To Natasha's wedding party
With Alyosha. And Dobrynya said,
Vladimir, you mild sun of Kiev,
You allow a poor peasant
To celebrate the bride with a game of psaltery
And the bridegroom and all the knights.
Vladimir granted it to the peasant
And Dobrynya played on the psaltery,
Singing so beautifully of Russia's pious knights,
That the gentle prince said to the peasant,
Choose a seat at the knights' table!
And Dobrynya said to the prince,
I want to sit by the bride's side!
As Dobrynya sat by his sweetheart,
Natasha did not recognise Dobrynya,
As Dobrynya said to Natasha,
Empty this cup to the bottom,
You are a woman of good heart.
Do not empty the cup to the bottom,
If you are a woman of evil heart.
For Dobrynya had put into the cup
His wedding ring, the gold one.
And Natasha emptied the cup completely,
And saw at the bottom the wedding ring.
Cried Natasha to the mild prince,
This singer is my true husband!
Yes, Dobrynya has come back!
But Dobrynya said to Natasha,
Why did you take Alyosha for your husband?
Oh, you women are like that - God have mercy! -
Long hair, but short thinking!
Oh, forgive me, whispered Natasha.
And Dobrynya said to the gentle prince
And to the fair princess, But why
Have you to Natasha given a husband,
When her husband was not yet dead?
And Dobrynya said to Alyosha,
Why did you say to the widow mother:
Dobrynya lies dead in the field?
You have brought grief to the mother.
And Dobrynya took a big club
And gave Alyosha a good thrashing!
That's how Alyosha celebrated the wedding,
So crushed by the hard cudgel!
Not everyone finds a wife,
Some love remains unsatisfied!
But better to live celibate,
As so like Alyosha to celebrate marriage.
(This I say to the sea in silence.)
CANTO X
Table keeper was Dobrynya for three years,
Door keeper was Dobrynya for three years,
Cupbearer was Dobrynya for three years.
In the tenth year Dobrynya began,
To wander about the town on horseback.
But his mother taught his son,
Don't ride around Kiev's alleys,
Don't ride in Marinka-Lane,
Marinka is a sorceress!
But Dobrynya does not listen to his mother.
And Dobrynya rode through Kiev's alleys
And he came to Marinka-Alley,
Lovely was Marinka's beautiful cottage.
And Dobrynya saw two turtledoves,
And saw the male and the female making love,
Pecking each other with their beaks,
How he pecks her dove's breast,
How she spreads her white dove's wings,
How they both flap their wings
And the treetops crack from their lovemaking!
Then Dobrynya's heart flung itself into tempests
And Dobrynya draws his bow
And he put the arrow on his bow
And he shot at the he-dove and the she-dove,
But he did not hit the turtledove,
But hit the serpent's son Tugarin,
Marinka's cherished friend,
The serpent's son Tugarin fell from the arrow!
And Marinka leaned up to the belt
Out of the window, to the magic belt,
And the sorceress said to the knight,
Why did you shoot at the pair of doves?
Ah, you did not hit the dove and the pigeon,
You shot your arrow into my dwelling
And the windows shook
And my dear household friend died,
My beloved serpent-son Tugarin!
Come, now bury the dead body!
Dobrynya got down from the noble racer,
Entered Marinka's sweet hut.
Marinka lured to Dobrynya
Behind the veil of her celestial bed,
There he stayed from noon till evening.
They spoke little, only gazing at love!
Dobrynya left the flat again,
Marinka took a sharp knife,
She cut out the marks of his feet,
She said to the footprints of his feet,
As I cut out his footprints,
I'll cut out Dobryna's heart, the burning one!
He shall long for me eternally,
Only Marinka shall want Dobrynya!
And she threw the tracks of his feet
In the magic kitchen into the oven,
Said to the traces of his feet,
How the traces of those feet burn,
So with love his soul burns!
And Dobrynya's soul is aflame
For the beautiful enchantress Marinka.
In the morning Dobrynya spoke to his mother,
Mother, my lady, give me Marinka as a bride,
Marinka to me as a wife!
But the mistress mother said to her son,
Take for yourself princesses and noblewomen
And ladies and peasants,
But never take Marinka!
She is a sorceress, a demon!
But Dobrynya did not listen to his mother,
Went to Marinka the next day.
And Marinka took with her hands
Dobrynya by the hands tenderly:
Now you will become a red fox!
Once you have been transformed by me
Into the much-faithful fox, the red one,
Then I'll turn you into a frog,
You shall croak in my pond forever.
But Marinka was well disposed towards him,
She won't turn him into a frog,
He remains her faithful fox, the red one.
And the red fox ran into the open.
When Dobrynya's mother heard this,
She went to the sorceress Marinka,
She said to the sorceress Marinka,
My beloved son Dobrynya,
Turn him into a handsome youth,
A beautiful, clever youth!
If you do not transform Dobrynya
Into a dreamlike, beautiful man
Full of manly strength and godly wisdom,
Then I'll hex you into a magpie!
Then the sorceress Marinka was frightened,
She transformed the fox, the red one,
Into a dreamlike, beautiful man
Full of virility and divine wisdom.
But Dobrynya's mother,
She transformed the sweet witch
Into a white and black female magpie!
And Marinka flew as a female magpie
Into the open air and drove away the magpies
And drove away all the other magpies!
CANTO XI
Let me tell you about the brave hero,
Who used to go to the Tsar's Tavern,
Drank there much of the dark red wine,
Drank the red wine not by the cup,
He drank the red wine by the bucket,
Drinking up whole lager barrels,
Forty barrels of wine to drink!
Then he is intoxicated with the red wine,
His boastful words escape him,
Powerful I am like Great Peter,
Wiser am I than Great Peter!
But there were also people from the court,
They said these things to the Tsar,
Our hope, Orthodox Peter!
In the Tsar's tavern there is
A German man, called Andreas Butman
Of Rosenbusch, he is a braggart.
This German drinks the dark red wine
Not from cups, no, from big buckets,
Knows to empty the storage barrels.
And when he is intoxicated by the wine,
The German speaks boastful words:
Powerful I am like Great Peter,
Wiser am I than Great Peter!
Peter's hot tsar's blood was aflame,
His shoulders parted,
Darkness fell before his eyes.
And he sent servants to the tavern:
Bring Andreas Butman to me captive!
Those servants came into the tavern,
Bowed low before Andreas Butman:
Let us go to the great Tsar Peter
To the banquet, let us drink and feast!
Said Andreas von Rosenbusch:
Wait a little longer, servants of the tsar,
I will first empty this cup,
This full cup's broad basin!
Even licking at the shards of the cup,
He said, Let's go to the tsar's banquet.
When they came to the palace of the knights
He knelt before the great Tsar Peter:
Our hope, orthodox Peter!
Hail, great Tsar of Russia!
Why do you call me, what does my sovereign want?
What has your poor servant done wrong?
Said the great Orthodox Peter,
Well, Andreas von Rosenbusch,
Always you sit in the czar's tavern
And you drink too much of the red wine,
You speak boastful words:
Powerful I am like Great Peter,
Wiser am I than Great Peter!
So I lock you up in prison,
Have your head knocked off your trunk!
Said Andreas von Rosenbusch,
Then remember, thou our hope,
How thou wast in the land of the Golden Horde,
Among the heathen, how I saved thee!
Said the great Orthodox Peter,
I remember, saviour of my life,
And I will reward thee richly now!
A decree I proclaim in the kingdom,
That Andreas von Rosenbusch
In all the taverns of the kingdom
Can drink as much wine as he likes,
Without paying a ruble.
And Andreas von Rosenbusch
Thanked the orthodox tsar hotly,
Rushed to the last tavern in the street,
And banged his fists on the tables,
Rroared like a lion, Ye tavern rabble!
Ye comrades from the gutter tavern!
Someone wants to compete with Andreas,
Let him step out of his hell,
I'll smash his skull already!
CANTO XII
In golden mother Moscow it was,
When the empire of Rusj was ruled by no tsar,
When the empire was ruled by no Tsarevich,
But you alone, the Great Tsarina,
You, the Orthodox Mother Tsarina,
Who sat in the Tsar's throne for three years.
This was heard by the heretic Swedish king,
This, the baptised heathen, boasts,
I will go to Mother Moscow,
To destroy all God's churches!
I will slaughter all the monks!
I will leave in Mother Moscow
No man's strength for sowing,
And the tsarina I'll take as my wife,
For I think she is a whore!
So the heretic Swedish king wrote
A letter to our mother Tsarina.
When the tsarina read this letter,
The tsarina's white hands trembled
And tears dripped from her eyes,
Lord, my God, let me die in haste!
I want to lie in my deathbed!
Oh have mercy, oh Jesus Christ!
But our Mother Tsarina had
A cunning counsellor, who was
Wise as the fox and the owl.
The adviser said to the mistress tsarina,
Do not be grieved, you orthodox Tsarina!
Sing a prayer to God the Creator,
Call for help to the Lord from Heaven,
Then sit down in your throne chair.
Said the Orthodox Mistress Tsarina,
No, I don't want to sit in the armchair
Of my throne, I am tired of it.
The adviser took the mistress tsarina's
Delicate white hands to guide her
To the desk of the oak wood,
Said, Your Majesty and Highness,
Letters wrote the heretic Swedish king,
Asked if our arms were in order?
What answer shall I write to him now?
Said the pure woman and mother tsarina,
My counsellor, write what your heart tells you!
The counsellor wrote to the Swedish king,
King of all Swedes, be welcome
Here with us in our Mother Moscow.
Our weapons are all in order!
But here in Russia it is the custom
That first you're a lady's guest,
To woo with love until the lady says yes.
Here in Russia it is not the custom,
Without a passionate loving
To take a woman to wife
For political gain!
Such marriage the mother calls church:
Vain, vain nullity of marriage!...
True marriages are made by the Lord in heaven!
But you can come to the tsarina,
Play chess with our mother tsarina,
Let the sovereign and mistress
Lay cards for you, as is customary in Russia.
The Swedish king read this letter,
He burst out laughing and went to Moscow,
Took gifts for Mother Tsarina.
Said the Swedish King to the Tsarina,
For political gain
Make a marriage alliance with me!
My marriage policy is worldly,
No need of God's blessing,
No blessing of Holy Mother Church!
Said the pure woman and Mother Tsarina,
Seven days I will consider,
Be a guest in my house for so long,
And I'll be happy to have fun with you!
The Swedish king was delighted!
But our Czarina's adviser
Said to the pure mistress tsarina,
Your Majesty and Highness Czarina,
Muse and Athena, Russia's goddess!
Only make the King of Sweden drunk,
But take a knife to the king.
Came the Tsarina to the King of Sweden,
The king bowed to the tsarina,
And the tsarina made him drunk,
Then the Swedish king became merry,
He began to chat with the tsarina
And began to joke charmingly with her.
Tears flowed from the Tsarina's eyes,
But the counsellor said to the king,
O noble king of all the Swedes!
Lay your head now in the tsarina's lap!
The Swedish king was amused!
And the tsarina said to the Swedish king,
Rest from thy heavy office,
Just rest your head in my lap!
The Swedish king fell asleep
In the arms of our pure mistress,
The lady and ruler took the knife,
Cut off the Swedish king's head!