Читать книгу The bronze Horseman / Медный всадник. Книга для чтения на английском языке - Александр Сергеевич Пушкин, Александр Пушкин, Pushkin Aleksandr - Страница 7

On seashore far a green oak towers,

And to it with a gold chain bound,

A learned cat whiles away the hours

By walking slowly round and round.

To right he walks, and sings a ditty;

To left he walks, and tells a tale…

What marvels there! A mermaid sitting

High in a tree, a sprite, a trail

Where unknown beasts move never seen by

Man’s eyes, a hut on chicken feet,

Without doors, without windows,

An evil witch’s lone retreat;

The woods and valleys there are teeming

With strange things… Dawn brings waves that, gleaming,

Over the sandy beaches creep,

And from the clear and shining water

Step thirty goodly knights escorted

By their Old Guardian, of the deep

An ancient dweller… There a dreaded

And hated tsar is captive ta’en;

There, as all watch, for cloud banks headed,

Across the sea and o’er a plain,

A warlock bears a knight. There, weeping,

A princess sits locked in a cell,

And Grey Wolf serves her very well;

There, in a mortar, onward sweeping

All of itself, beneath the skies

The wicked Baba-Yaga flies;

There pines Koshchei and lusts for gold…

All breathes of Russ, the Russ of old

There once was I, friends, and the сat

As near him ’neath the oak I sat

And drank of sweet mead at my leisure,

Recounted tales to me… With pleasure

One that I liked do I recall

And here and now will share with all…