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Alexander Pushkin in English translation - - Translations by M.Kneller

Проза и поэзия >> Русская классика >> Александр Сергеевич Пушкин >> Pushkin in English >> Alexander Pushkin in English translation
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Alexander Pushkin in English translation

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© Copyright translation to english by Mikhail Kneller

Email: m.kneller@worldnet.att.net

Date: 13 Jun 2000

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     A wish


     My days still linger, slow and rough

     Each moment multiplies the sadness

     Within the heart of hapless love

     Disturbing all the hopes of madness

     I'm silent; not a word I breathe.

     I weep, my tears -- my consolation

     My soul, held captive by the grief

     Still finds delight in this sensation.

     No longer do I care if life goes by,

     O, hollow phantom into darkness flee;

     The sorrow of my love is dear to me--

     If I die loving, then I pray let die!


     To ***


     I still remember that amazing moment

     You have appeared before my sight

     As though a brief and fleeting omen,

     Pure phantom in enchanting light.


     Locked in depression's hopeless captive,

     In haste of clamorous processions,

     I heard your voice-- soft and attractive.

     And dreamt of your beloved expressions.


     Time passed. In gusts, rebellious and active,

     A tempest scattered my affections

     And I forgot your voice attractive,

     Your sacred and divine expressions.


     Detained in darkness, isolation,

     My days would slowly drag in strife.

     With lack of faith and inspiration,

     With lack of tears, and love and life.


     My soul attained its waking moment:

     You re-appeared before my sight,

     As though a brief and fleeting omen,

     Pure phantom in enchanting light.


     And now, my heart, in fascination

     Beats rapidly and finds revived:

     Devout faith and inspiration,

     And tender tears and love and life.
I loved you...


     I loved you and this love by chance,

     Inside my soul has never fully vanished;

     No longer shall it ever make you tense;

     I wouldn't want to sadden you with anguish.

     I loved you speechlessly and wildly,

     By modesty and jealousy was stressed;

     I loved you so sincerely and so mildly,

     As, God permit, may love you someone else.


     To ***


     Don't ask me why alone in dismal thought

     In times of mirth, I'm often filled with strife,

     And why my weary stare is so distraught,

     And why I don't enjoy the dream of life;


     Don't ask me why my soul has slowly perished

     And ceased to love the love that pleased me then

     No longer can I call someone "my cherished"--

     Who once has loved will never love again;


     Who once felt bliss will never feel its essence,

     A moment's happiness is all that we receive:

     From youth, prosperity and joyful pleasance

     All that is left is apathy and grief...


     The Tenth Commandment


     Don't covet goods of other beings --

     My Goodness, You've commanded so;

     The limits of my will You know --

     Am I to manage tender feelings?!

     I wish not to offend my friend,

     His village I do not desire,

     And for his steer I don't aspire,

     I'm gazing at it with content:

     His men, his house and his cattle,

     I'm tempted not, though all is great.

     But let's imagine that his maid

     Is beautiful... I've lost the battle!

     And if by chance his lady's pretty

     And gifted with an angel's skin

     Then God forgive me for my sin

     Of being envious and greedy!

     Who can command a heart like this?

     Who is a slave to feeble effort?

     Not love a person who is revered?--

     Who can resist the heaven's bliss?

     I sigh from sadness and perceive,

     But I must honor my conviction,

     Afraid to flatter heart's ambition,

     I'm silent... and alone I grieve.
***


     Oh what a night! The frost is creaking,

     Across the sky no clouds are creeping;

     The bluish dome, -- a knitted shade,

     Is dazzled with the frequent stars.

     All homes are dark. And every gate

     Is safely locked with bolts and bars.

     In people peacefulness' conveyed.

     The noisy market now is calm,

     The guarding dog just barks alone,

     And with the loud chains it rumbles.


     While all of Moscow's dead in slumber,

     The restlessness of fear forgetting.

     The square, in murkiness of night,

     Stands filled with yesterday's beheading.

     The torture's imprints still abide:

     Where yesterday a man was struck,

     Where there are pitchforks, where there are

     The cooled off cauldrons filled with tar;

     Where there's a tumbled over block;

     The metal teeth are sticking out,

     And bones with ashes are consumed,

     Upon the stakes, above the ground,

     Dead bodies darken from the fume...

     Not long ago, the blood was sliding

     Pigmenting snow along the way

     And languid moans were rising, rising,

     But death embraced them, tranquilizing,

     And overtook her easy prey.

     Who's there? Whose horse is it that's speeding

     Across the risky square in flight?

     Whose blaring whistle, loud speaking

     Is heard in twilight of the night?

     Who's he? -A slayer full of greed.

     He gallops, hurries to his date,

     By his desire made irate

     He pleads: "My valiant, intrepid steed,

     Fly like an arrow at full speed!

     Oh faster, faster!..." The ardent horse

     Just swung its mane, abruptly paused

     And stopped. Between the posts

     Upon the long and wooden crossbeam,

     A corpse was swaying. And the horseman

     Was ready to advance and cross,

     But for some reason under lashes

     The steed just sniffs and snorts and rushes

     Back. "Where to?! Ahead, ahead!

     What is with you! What is to dread?

     Just yesterday, right here we'd ride,

     Wasn't it us who stomped with pride,

     Inflamed with vengeance from afar,

     The evil traitors of the czar?

     It was their blood that we would use

     To wash and clean your steely hoofs!

     Have you forgotten all in spite?

     My daring steed, this is your course

     Now gallop, fly..." The tired horse

     Under the corpse would slowly ride.
***


     My friend, forgotten are the fleeting era's prints

     Forgotten is my youth's uprising flow

     Don't question me on what I'm lacking since,

     On what I felt in the times of joy and woe,

     On what I loved, on how I was forlorn

     I've yet to taste true joy, -- that is inborn;

     But you are innocent! conceived for only bliss

     Believe in it and seize each moment's portion

     Your soul was made for friendship and devotion,

     A passionate and loving kiss.

     Your soul is pure and unexposed to sadness

     Your conscience is as bright as any day

     Why then perceive the lunacy and madness

     Of the uninteresting hearsay?

     It will replace your peace with aggravation

     You'll tremble with your heart and cry in bed

     Your soul will lose its trust in agitation

     And you, perhaps... my love may grow to dread

     Who knows? perhaps forever... No, my dear

     I fear to cast the only joy away

     Don't ask for dangerous confessions here

     Today I love, I'm happy for today.


     ***


     I've lived to see desire vanish,

     With hope I've slowly grown to part,

     And I am left with only anguish,

     The fruit of emptiness at heart.


     Under the storms of merciless fate

     My thriving garland withered lies--

     In sadness, lonesome, I await:

     How far away is my demise?


     Thus, conquered by a tardy frost,

     Through gale's whistling and shimmer,

     Late, on a naked limb exposed

     A lonesome leaf is left to quiver...
***


     Alas! How come she's glimmering

     With temporary, charming vibe?

     It's evident that she is withering

     While youth is blossoming with life...

     Soon she will fade! Life of delight

     Not very long she has to treasure;

     And not for long will she provide

     Her happy family with pleasure.

     Her mellow wit will not abide

     To energize our conversations

     And with her soul, she won't subside

     The sufferer's lamentations.

     I hurry, still distraught in thought,

     Concealing all of my dejection,

     To catch her every cheerful word

     And to delight in her perfection.

     I watch her move, with admiration,

     Perceive each sound from her soul

     From every moment's separation

     My tender heart becomes appalled.
***


     Oh blazing Muse of pure satire!

     Come forth on my inviting call!

     I do not need the blatant lyre,

     Give me the scourge of Juvenal!

     And neither lifeless imitators

     Nor hungry, gluttonous translators,

     Nor rhymesters who don't relate,

     With epigrams shall I abate!

     Peace to the poets, poor creators,

     Peace to the journal's adulators,

     Peace to the fools who have been tamed!

     But rascals, you I'll put to shame,--

     Come forth you villains, don't resist!

     And everyone I'll punished then

     But if by chance one I shall miss,

     Please do remind me, gentlemen!

     How many faces -- shameless-pale,

     How many forehands -- dull and stale,

     From me are ready to acquire

     The timeless imprint of my lyre!


     Verses, composed during a night of insomnia...


     I can't sleep, the light is out;

     Chasing senseless dreams in gloom.

     Clocks at once, inside my room,

     Somewhere next to me, resound.

     Parcae's soft and mild chatter,

     Sleeping twilight's noisy flutter,

     Life's commotion -- so insane..

     Why am I to feel this pain?

     What's your meaning, boring mumble?

     Disapproving, do you grumble

     Of the day I spent in vain?

     What has made you so compelling?

     Are you calling or foretelling?

     I just want to understand,

     Thus I'm seeking your intent...


     Winter morning


     Cold frost and sunshine: day of wonder!

     But you, my friend, are still in slumber--

     Wake up, my beauty, time belies:

     You dormant eyes, I beg you, broaden

     Toward the northerly Aurora,

     As though a northern star arise!


     Recall last night, the snow was whirling,

     Across the sky, the haze was twirling,

     The moon, as though a pale dye,

     Emerged with yellow through faint clouds.

     And there you sat, immersed in doubts,

     And now, -- just take a look outside:


     The snow below the bluish skies,

     Like a majestic carpet lies,

     And in the light of day it shimmers.

     The woods are dusky. Through the frost

     The greenish fir-trees are exposed;

     And under ice, a river glitters.


     The room is lit with amber light.

     And bursting, popping in delight

     Hot stove still rattles in a fray.

     While it is nice to hear its clatter,

     Perhaps, we should command to saddle

     A fervent mare into the sleight?


     And sliding on the morning snow

     Dear friend, we'll let our worries go,

     And with the zealous mare we'll flee.

     We'll visit empty ranges, thence,

     The woods, which used to be so dense

     And then the shore, so dear to me.
***


     I will be silenced soon!... If on the tragic day

     The strings would answer me with pensive play;

     If only youth, would mutely grasp me first,

     They'd marvel at my love's affliction;

     If you, aroused by a mere conviction,

     In silence mumbled melancholy verse

     And loved my speaking heart in hover...

     If I am loved... allow me, my dear friend,

     New spirit to the parting lyre send --

     The sacred name of my beloved lover!...

     When with eternal sleep I will be stoned,

     Above my grave then say in inflammation:

     "He's loved by me and to me he was loaned

     In songs and love's conclusive inspiration."
***


     If by life you were deceived,

     Don't be dismal, don't be wild!

     In the day of grief, be mild

     Merry days will come, believe.


     Heart is living in tomorrow;

     Present is dejected here;

     In a moment, passes sorrow;

     That which passes will be dear.
***


     The final flowers are more dear

     Than charming maidens in the field

     And the dejected aspirations

     They reawake in us with life

     Thus sometimes separation's strife

     Is livelier than love's occasions
***


     The empty "you" for "thee"-- so mild,

     By chance, she swapped in dialogue

     And all the dreams that I've compiled

     Within my loving soul evoked.

     I stand before her very humbly,

     To look aside -- I do not dare;

     I say to her: "you" are so fair!

     And gravely think: How much I love "thee!"
***


     What's in my name? It's soulless,

     It shall expire, like the dismal roar

     Of waves that hit the distant shore, --

     Like nighttime noises in the forest!


     Upon the memo sheet, in grief,

     Its imprint in the stillborn gloom,

     Much like the writing on the tomb,

     In foreign language it will leave.


     What's in it? All the lost and trite

     In new and wild insurrection,

     Within your soul it won't excite

     The pure and kind recollections.


     But silently, in time of anguish

     Pronounce it softly while grieving

     Say that my memory won't vanish

     That there's a heart in which I'm living...


     To***


     Why premature exasperation

     Feed with the dismal, doomed belief,

     And thus, the certain separation

     Await alone with timid grief?

     It's not that long until dejection!

     In calmness of the barren fields,


     You will bring forth the recollection

     Of days you've lost throughout the years.

     Misfortunate! then, you'll be ready,

     With price of death to pay the debts,

     To buy a word from cherished lady, --

     The light resounding of her steps.


     A Fairytale About A Dead Princess, By: Aleksander Pushkin (1833)


     1


     The czar bid farewell to his wife,

     Packing for the road of strife,

     And czarina by the door

     Sat to wait for him alone.

     There she waits from dawn till nighttime,

     Sees the fields, and thus from sighting

     Her bright eyes are filled with blight

     From the sunrise till the night;

     Her dear friend cannot be seen!

     Only blizzards whirl and spin,

     On the fields the snow is falling,

     And the pale earth is glowing.

     Thus she sits there nine long months

     Never leaves her post, not once.

     Then from God on Christmas Eve,

     She a daughter would receive.

     Early morn, the cherished guest,

     Long awaited in unrest, --

     Finally, from lands afar

     Came back home the father-czar.

     She would gaze at him one time,

     Uttering a heavy sigh,

     All this joy she could not bare

     And she died right then and there.


     The czar for long would feel distress,

     But he is sinful like the rest,

     The dire year had passed and hence

     He had married someone else.

     His younger wife, I have to say,

     Was a czarina all the way:

     Tall and slender, pale white,

     Smart, 'most everything was right,

     Only she was proud, zealous,

     Willful, obstinate and jealous.

     As a present, to her passed

     There's a mirror that she has

     But this mirror is unique

     It has slowly learned to speak.

     Only with it would she be

     Tender, thoughtful and free

     With it, friendly she would joke

     Self-admiring, she spoke:

     "Oh my light! My mirror, say

     And don't hide the truth away:

     Am I the prettiest on earth?

     Purest, fairest, with most verve?"

     And the mirror would resound:

     "Yes you are, without a doubt,

     You're the prettiest on earth,

     Purest, fairest, with most verve."

     And czarina would then giggle

     With her shoulders she would jiggle

     With her eyes she'd wink, so happy

     That her fingers started tapping

     And she started dancing, leaping

     At the mirror always peeping.


     But the princess, -- pretty child,

     Was still blooming, all the while

     Growing, growing and she grew,

     She would slowly blossom through,

     Darkened brows and skin so tender,

     She appeared to be short-tempered.

     She had met her fiancИ

     Son of king, prince Ellisay.

     Czar gave word and king was seated

     And the gift was now completed:

     Seven business trading towns

     And one hundred forty towers.


     Getting ready for the party

     Dressing up, czarina darling,

     By her mirror comes to sit

     And begins to question it:

     "Am I the prettiest on earth?

     Purest, fairest, with most verve?"

     How does mirror then resound?

     "You are pretty, there's no doubt,

     But the princess, on this earth

     Is the purest with most verve"

     Scared czarina jumped away,

     Raised her hand up in a fray

     Hit the mirror best she could

     Stomping fiercely with her foot.

     "O, you lying piece of glass!

     O, how dare you curse me thus?

     She will never match my grace

     I will put her in her place!

     How she grew before my sight!

     It is known why she's so white;

     Pregnant mother while mourning

     Sat the snowy fields observing.

     Mirror, tell me: how can she

     Be more beautiful than me?

     Now confess that I'm more pretty:

     In the boundaries of our city,

     No one's prettier than I

     Is it so?" The glass replied:

     "But the princess' still more charming

     Still more beautiful, more darling."

     Nothing left to do. And she,

     Overfilled with jealousy,

     Threw the glass under the bench

     Called her maid, an older wretch,

     And czarina, now irate

     Told her older chambermaid,

     "Take the princess to the forest

     Tie her up and leave her soulless

     Leave her there under the pine

     So the wolves may come to dine!"


     A raging dame who can persuade?

     It's useless. Thus the chambermaid

     Took the princess to the woods

     Deep and with so many loops

     That the princess guessed the purpose,

     And became afraid and nervous,

     And implored half-shocked, half-stunned:

     "Tell me, what is it I've done?

     I beseech you, spare me, friend,

     Do not leave me here to stand,

     I'll repay you then for all!"

     And the maid, who in her soul,

     Liked the princess, did not fled

     Let her go and simply said:

     "God be with you." And alone,

     She would slowly travel home.

     There, czarina was all ready:

     "Where's the dear and charming lady?

     --"In the woods, alone she stands"

     She replied, "tied are her legs

     I have lashed her as I clutched her

     If by chance a beast shall catch her,

     Not for long will she sustain

     She will die with much less pain."


     And the rumors were disclosed

     Daughter of the czar is lost!

     And the czar now grieves away.

     Future husband, Ellisay,

     Prayed to God for all the best,

     And now sets out on a quest

     For her rescue. He is ready

     To bring back his cherished lady.


     While young princess all alone,

     Wandered in the woods till dawn,

     Rambled, rambled all around

     And a wooden tower found.

     Towards her, a dog ran up,

     Barked with playfulness and stopped.

     To the door she'd slowly start--

     All was quiet in the yard.

     And the dog she'd dearly pet,

     Then, the princess walked ahead

     By the door, she came to stop

     In her hand she held the knob

     Heavy door was opened wide

     And the princess went inside

     In the chamber, all around

     Benches stood with carpets covered,

     And a table made of wood,

     And a tile stove there stood,

     And the princess now could tell:

     Here, good people had to dwell;

     She will not regret here stopping!

     All the while, no one's coming.

     For the owners she would gaze

     Then she cleaned the dirty place

     Lit a candle for the Lord,

     Lit the fire in the stove,

     On the planking, she would climb,

     And there, peacefully reclined.


     Lunchtime hour was now close

     Footsteps in the yard arose

     Seven stalwarts entered then

     Seven strong and handsome men.

     Eldest uttered: "What a dream!

     All is beautiful and clean.

     Someone cleaned inside our home

     And awaited us alone.

     Who are you? Just let us see,

     And a friend to us you'll be.

     If you are an elder man

     You shall be our uncle then.

     If you are a youthful male

     As a brother you'll be hailed.

     If you're just an elder lady

     Be our mother, we are ready,

     If you are a pretty dame

     Then our sister you'll become."


     And the frightened princess would

     Come out forth with a salute.

     Bowing gracefully in meekness,

     She then asked them for forgiveness,

     For she entered uninvited

     Seeking rest since she was tired.

     And they instantly affirmed,

     That they all accepted her.

     In the corner, she was seated,

     With a pie was nicely greeted,

     A full glass for her to drink,

     On a tray to her they'd bring.

     But the fresh and hearty wine

     With a smile she'd decline.

     And a little of the pie

     Just to sample she would try,

     Then, the languor to relieve

     She was kindly granted leave.

     And to rest her, they had led

     Wearied princess to the bed

     And allowed her to repose

     And in slumber she would doze.


     Day by day is flashing by

     And the princess by-and-by

     In the woods, now lives content

     With the seven stalwart men.

     And a little before dawning

     Brothers are together going

     To just wander and relax,

     On the hunt for wild ducks,

     To please the tired arm, with force,

     To throw the robber off the horse,

     Or to cut off the heavy head

     The evil Tatar to behead

     From the forest, to deface

     The circassian feeble race.

     As a housekeeper, she

     Inside alone all day would be,

     Cooking, cleaning 'round the den

     Never contradicting them

     And they're never disagreeing

     Thus the days are quickly fleeing.


     All the brothers loved her, so

     Into her room, one day they go,

     Walking in before first light

     In her room they all abide.

     Eldest uttered: "Listen, dear,

     You are like a sister here,

     There are seven, all of us

     Love you passionately, thus

     Each would love to take your hand,

     To marry all of us you can't,

     Help us, dear, to end this strife;

     Pick just one and be his wife,

     For the rest, a sister stay; --

     With your head you're saying nay?

     Are we all for you too stale?

     Is the product not for sale?"


     "O, my friends, you all are great,

     You're my brothers, all innate,--

     The sweet lady tells them that: --

     If I'm lying, then dear God

     Strike me now by pain enraged!

     How can I? For I'm engaged.

     And to me, you're all alike

     All are mighty, all are bright,

     I sincerely love you all

     But forever my pure soul

     With another man shall stay,

     Son of king, prince Ellisay."


     Silent grew the seven men,

     Each was scratching on his head.

     "Do forgive us, we were coarse,

     Uttered eldest with remorse:--

     I will speak no more of it."

     "I'm not angry at your deed,

     She responded with affection:--

     Do not mind my rejection."

     Bowing down with delight,

     Brothers disappeared from sight,

     And contented once again,

     Happily they lived since then.


     Mad czarina all the while,

     Still remembering the child,

     Simply couldn't just forgive her.

     She was angry at her mirror

     With most wrathful aggravation,

     But to end the separation,

     She would look for it at last.

     Held it up and anger passed.

     Self-admiring, she stared,

     Then she uttered with a flare:

     "Nice to see you! mirror say,

     And don't hide the truth away:

     Am I the prettiest on earth?

     Purest, fairest, with most verve?"

     And the mirror would resound:

     "You are pretty, there's no doubt,

     But without fame there lives,

     In the forest of green leaves,

     With the seven stalwart men,

     She, whose grace you can't outstand!"

     And czarina angered truly

     At her maid would scream in fury:

     "Dare you lie to me?" Aghast,

     She plead guilty: "all was thus..."

     And czarina, now irate,

     With a stick would scare the maid:

     "Let her live and you shall die,

     Slay the princess and survive."


     Once, the princess on the setting

     Her dear brothers was expecting

     By the window, spun the yarn,

     When, with rancor in the yard,

     Barked the dog, and there the lady

     Saw a poor old beggar waiting,

     Swinging with her crutch, afraid

     Of the raging dog. "Please wait,

     Granny, wait right there a bit, --

     Yelled the princess from her seat: --

     Let me calm him, he's not scary,

     And there's something I will carry."

     Beggar answered with a smile:

     "Oh you're such a helpful child!

     Damn dog, I've lost my breath,

     Almost ate me here to death.

     Oh, just look how he is winding

     Toward me." - The princess' trying

     To come out, took the bread,

     But the dog who was ahead,

     Halted her with loud barking

     From the elder beggar guarding.

     As the beggar tried to near,

     Like a beast at her he'd steer.

     "What is wrong, my dog, my love?

     He just didn't sleep enough, --

     To the beggar then she said:

     Catch it!" -- and she threw some bread.

     The old beggar caught it high

     "Thank you dearly!" she replied:

     God will bless you for this deed!

     Here's something you can eat!"

     For the princess thus to sample,

     Fresh and golden, ripened apple

     Flies to her. And this perceiving,

     The dog whimpers, highly leaping

     But the princess with both hands

     Caught the apple. "When you're tense,

     Eat it, angel, it's so good,

     And thank Goodness for your food..."

     The old woman said that proud

     And then vanished, bowing down...

     With the princess to the door,

     The dog is running and with woe

     Stares at her and wails hard,

     As though aches his loving heart,

     As if he wants to say sincerely:

     Drop it! -- she just pets him dearly

     With a hand so soft and kind;

     "Sokolko, what's on your mind?"

     Then, inside she slowly crossed

     Quietly, the door she closed,

     By the window, to the yarn,

     Sits there, gazing at the yard,

     And the charming apple. It

     With the mellowed juice is filled,

     Oh so fresh, and oh so bloated,

     With the golden color coated,

     As though honey flows inside,

     Seeds are seen from either side...

     Until lunch, she tried to wait

     But her yearning was too great

     And the apple she picked up

     To the blushing lips brought up

     Bit a piece and then she swallowed

     And the juicy piece devoured...

     And then suddenly, my grace,

     Breathless, slowly swayed in place,

     Let her pale arms hang down,

     Dropped the fruit onto the ground

     Rolled her eyes up in the air,

     And below the icons, there

     On the bench she dropped her head,

     Still became just like the dead...


     Brothers then were coming back

     To their house in a pack

     From the dauntless, gallant fighting.

     Wailing, to them, like lightening

     Runs the dog and leads ahead

     To the yard. "Something is bad! --

     Brothers uttered while in flight:

     Sorrow's certain." Went inside,

     And were stunned. Inside the shack,

     The raging dog would there attack

     The golden apple, he seemed mad,

     Swallowed it and fell there dead.

     And they understood what happened:

     Poisoned was the charming apple.

     And above the princess, all

     Stood with woe inside their souls.

     And the brothers hung their heads

     Then, a sacred prayer said,

     From the bench, they'd lift her up,

     Tried to bury her, but stopped.

     She was lively, thus it seemed.

     Under the wing of hapless dream,

     Calm and tranquil, she would rest,

     With no breath inside her chest.

     For three days, the men would wait,

     From her sleep she wouldn't wake.

     Then, they'd start the somber rite,

     A crystal casket locked inside

     The beloved, stillborn body

     Of the princess. Everybody

     Up the mount, carried her

     In the midnight's darkened blur.

     To six post her casket bringing

     With the iron chains then linking

     Carefully secured it, thence

     They'd surround it with a fence.

     For their sister, to the ground

     Each would gracefully bow down

     Eldest uttered: "Rest there jaded,

     As a victim of cruel hatred,

     You have made the earth seem dull

     Heavens will receive your soul.

     We were all by you affected,

     For a loved one we protected, --

     No one got to share your presence

     Just the coffin took your essence."


     Mad czarina, that same day,

     Waiting for the news felt gay,

     Brought the mirror into sight

     And inquired with delight:

     "Am I the prettiest on earth?

     Purest, fairest, with most verve?"

     And she heard the glass resound:

     "Yes you are, without a doubt,

     You're the prettiest on earth

     Purest, fairest, with most verve."


     All the while, on his way

     Son of king, prince Ellisay

     Gallops on, his lady seeking.

     She is lost! He's sadly weeping

     And the people that he questions

     Answer with confused reactions;

     Some just laugh right in his face

     Some -- another way will gaze,

     To the blazing sun at last,

     He would turn and gravely asked:

    

... ... ...
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Анекдот 
пришли как-то Иа, винни-пух, и пятачок к кролику, а у него на столе кости обглоданные на тарелке валяются. Иа спросил, чьи кости- свиньи-ответил кролик. через 2 часа: винни-кролику: "хорошо посидели, только Пятачок рано ушел" (на столе до сих пор валялись обглоданные кости).
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