Читать книгу The Demon / Демон. Книга для чтения на английском языке - Михаил Лермонтов, Михаил Юрьевич Лермонтов, M. Y. Lermontov - Страница 12

Meanwhile, his gallant steed all lathered

Hastening to join his kin forgathered

To celebrate his wedding day

The bridegroom made his urgent way…

Good fortune yet attended him

To bright Aragva's verdant bank.

A line of camels after him

So weighted down with costly gifts

They scarce from hoof to hoof could shift

Wound down the pathway, rank on rank,

Now clear to view, now lost to sight,

Bells chiming softly as they plod.

Their master rode on in the van

To guide his laden caravan

That followed where his horse had trod…

Erect, the lithe waist girdled tight;

Sabre and dagger-hilts shine bright

Beneath the sun; and on his back

A gleaming rifle, notched in black.

The wind is fluttering the sleeve

Of his chukhá[5] – all bravely braided

His saddle-cloth of richest weave,

The saddle with gay silks is broidered

The reigns are tasseled – and his steed

Is of a priceless, golden breed.

Nostrils dilated, twitching ears

He glances down and snorts his fears

Of the deep drop, the flying foam

That crests the rapids' leaping waves.

How perilous the path they follow,

The cliff o'erhangs the way so narrow,

The deep ravine the torrent paves.

The hour is late. – The sunset glow

Is fading on the peaks of snow.

The caravan makes haste for home.