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    Selected Poetry (Penguin)

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      The waves turned crimson with its blood;

      With lowered bow the archer stood.

      He looked and saw the kite was dying

      But heard no bird-sound in its crying;

      The swan beside it in the sea

      Pecked at it unceasingly

      And beat it with her wings beneath

      160The waves towards a speedy death –

      And at the end of all her anguish

      Her voice was heard in Russian language:

      ‘O Prince, my keen-eyed rescuer,

      My noble-souled deliverer,

      You mustn’t mind that you must fast

      Until three days and nights have passed

      And lose your arrow in the sea

      Because of this you’ve done for me:

      No great loss for you today;

      170I shall make good; I shall repay.

      It is no swan that you have saved,

      No, your debtor is a maid;

      No kite you’ve just shot through the gizzard,

      But a cruel and evil wizard.

      I’ll always have you in my mind,

      Be anywhere for you to find;

      Tell your mother not to weep –

      Leave this place, lie down and sleep.’

      And off it flew, the grateful swan.

      180Tsarevich and Tsaritsa, long

      With empty stomach, thought it best

      Without ado to get some rest.

      When he shook off the dreams of night,

      The prince beheld a wondrous sight:

      A city lay before his eyes;

      The domes of shrines and monasteries

      Shone above many a stately hall

      Behind the battlemented wall.

      He woke the queen; she marvelled too …

      190Was that promise coming true?

      ‘It seems,’ said he, ‘my friend the swan

      Is helping me.’ Mother and son

      Approached the city. Through the gate

      The two did not have long to wait:

      A deafening peal of bells rang out,

      The son was welcomed by a crowd;

      Towards him fine-dressed figures rolled

      In spacious carriages of gold;

      The people hailed him in a ring,

      200A holy choir began to sing.

      With ceremony, on his head

      The cap of majesty was set,

      To be the city’s sovereign,

      And with the blessing of the queen

      He was to reign from that day on:

      He would be known as Prince Guidon.

      The wind was chasing, in its sport,

      A little ship far out from port,

      So that it seemed to dance and skip

      210Upon the waves, the little ship.

      The sailors gathered in a crowd,

      And wonderstruck, they cried out loud;

      On the bare island that they knew

      A miracle had soared to view:

      A new-built city, proud and tall,

      A harbour with a stout sea-wall;

      Cannon smoking on the quay

      Bade the ship put in from sea.

      The visitors took food and rest,

      220A merchant was an honoured guest

      For Prince Guidon. He asked them straight:

      ‘Where are you bound? And what’s your trade?’

      They told him what they bought and sold:

      ‘We’ve traded over all the world,

      And silver fox and sable fur

      Are what rich buyers most prefer.

      But now our time is nearly up,

      This will be our final stop;

      We’ll pass the island of Buyan

      230East to the realm of Tsar Saltan.’

      This reply made Prince Guidon:

      ‘I wish you, sirs, fair passage on

      The seas and oceans to Saltan;

      My greetings to the great Saltan.’

      Prince Guidon, with heavy heart,

      Watched the merchant guests depart,

      And from the shore long kept his eyes on

      The ship still faint on the horizon.

      Then, on the billows of the sea,

      240He saw the white swan floating; she

      Greeted him: ‘Prince, my brave one – why

      As gloomy as a cloudy sky?

      What troubles you?’ The prince replied:

      ‘A longing – I am sorely tried –

      It eats my heart: I see in dream

      My father I have never seen.’

      Thus the friendly swan’s reply:

      ‘That’s all? Well, would you care to fly,

      And catch up with the merchants? Right ho!

      250I’ll turn you into a mosquito.’

      She flapped her wings with mighty sound

      And beat the water all around;

      Over Guidon it splashed, and so

      The prince was soaked from head to toe.

      But this was not an idle prank:

      Into a tiny speck he shrank,

      And off he flew with high-pitched whine,

      It took him hardly any time

      To catch the ship; he rubbed his back

      260And settled down inside a crack.

      Merrily the sea-wind blew

      And merrily the ship sped too

      Beyond the island of Buyan

      Towards the realm of Tsar Saltan.

      The country of the glorious Tsar

      Was duly sighted from afar;

      And when the merchants stepped ashore

      The Tsar was waiting at his door.

      He signalled them to come to him;

      270Our tiny traveller followed them.

      There on his throne sat Tsar Saltan

      Before his court and everyone,

      Upon his head a shining crown,

      Upon his brow a heavy frown;

      On either side the cook and weaver

      And Widow Baba Babarikha

      Each sat bolt upright in her chair

      And each face wore a rigid stare.

      The Tsar now bade his guests be seated,

      280And after they had all been greeted,

      ‘Have you been long,’ he asked, ‘at sea?

      Where will your next landfall be?

      What is it like where you have been?

      Tell me what wonders you have seen.’

      And this is what the merchants told:

      ‘We have sailed around the world;

      In other lands life isn’t bad,

      This wonder, though, made us most glad.

      There was an island in the ocean,

      290It had no quay, no population,

      Steep-cliffed and barren utterly;

      One oak on it there used to be;

      Now there is a city there,

      This city rises in the air

      With gold-domed monasteries and churches,

      A palace, gardens, towers and arches;

      There lives the young and worthy Prince

      Guidon; he sends his compliments.’

      The Tsar was lost in wonder. ‘While

      300I live,’ said he, ‘that splendid isle

      I’ll surely visit, and anon

      I’ll be the guest of Prince Guidon.’

      Those two again, the cook and weaver

      And Widow Baba Babarikha,

      They did not wish the Tsar to see

      The wondrous island in the sea.

      As if astonished, said the cook,

      Giving the other two a look:

      ‘A city standing in the sea –

      310What a curiosity!

      But here’s a real wonder, sir.

      In the forest there’s a fir;

      Beneath that fir a squirrel squats,

      Singing songs and gnawing nuts,

      You never saw, though, nuts like those –

      Where they come from no one knows,

      Their shells are all of solid gold,

      Their kernels of pure emerald.’

      While Tsar Saltan was lost in wonder

    &nb
    sp; 320The insect raged and raged like thunder –

      And bit his aunt in her right eye,

      Which lost its sight immediately.

      The cook turned deathly pale and swooned,

      Servants and everyone around

      Chased the insect, loudly shouted –

      And then, triumphantly, they caught it:

      ‘Now we’ve got you, cursed creature,

      You’ll trouble us no more – we’ll teach you!’

      But through the window it was off

      330And homeward hardly soon enough.

      The prince was walking on the shore

      Beside the dark blue sea once more

      When on the billows of the sea

      He saw the white swan swimming; she

      Greeted him: ‘Prince, my brave one – why

      As gloomy as a cloudy sky?

      What ails you?’ And the prince replied:

      ‘A yearning gnaws me deep inside –

      One wonder of all wonders known,

      340I’d dearly like it for my own

      Of all the things that ever were.

      In the forest there’s a fir;

      Beneath that fir a squirrel squats,

      Singing songs and gnawing nuts,

      You never saw, though, nuts like those –

      Whether it’s true or not, who knows:

      Their shells are said to be of gold,

      Their kernels of pure emerald.’

      Thus the answer of the swan:

      350‘The story’s true, my Prince Guidon,

      I know of it; do not be sad;

      I’ll do you service, I’ll be glad.’

      Home went the prince with cheerful heart.

      Inside the spacious palace court,

      Beneath a stately fir-tree, squats

      A squirrel gnawing golden nuts,

      Taking out an emerald

      From each, collecting shells of gold,

      Placing them neatly in a pile,

      360Singing merrily the while

      And in a pretty whistling tone:

      I have an orchard all my own.

      In high delight was Prince Guidon:

      ‘I’m deeply grateful, my dear Swan,

      May God grant you fair-handedly

      The happiness you give to me.’

      And so that it might safely browse,

      The little beast was built a house

      Of crystal, with a guard, beside

      370Whom always sat a trusted scribe

      To keep a careful count: thus came

      Profit to prince, to squirrel fame.

      The wind was chasing, in its sport,

      A little ship far out from port,

      So that it seemed to dance and skip

      Upon the waves, the little ship;

      It reached the steep-cliffed isle, on which

      Now stood a city proud and rich;

      Cannon smoking on the quay

      380Bade the ship put in from sea.

      The visitors took food and rest,

      A merchant was an honoured guest

      For Prince Guidon. He asked them straight:

      ‘Where are you bound? And what’s your trade?’

      They told him what they bought and sold:

      ‘We have sailed around the world;

      We have been trading in fine horses,

      Stallions from the Don – no losses

      There. Our time is up now, though,

      390For we have many leagues to go

      Beyond this island of Buyan

      On to the realm of Tsar Saltan.’

      This reply made Prince Guidon:

      ‘I wish you, sirs, fair passage on

      The seas and oceans to Saltan;

      My greetings to the great Saltan.’

      The merchants bade the prince farewell

      And then, their thoughts on home, set sail.

      The prince was by the sea once more –

      400The swan came swimming to the shore.

      With all his yearning soul astir

      He instantly appealed to her …

      The friendly creature wasn’t slow

      To sprinkle him from head to toe:

      This time he became a fly;

      Between the ocean and the sky

      He caught the ship; he rubbed his back

      And settled down inside a crack.

      Merrily the sea-wind blew

      410And merrily the ship sped too,

      Beyond the island of Buyan

      Towards the realm of Tsar Saltan;

      The country of the glorious Tsar

      Was duly sighted from afar;

      And when the merchants stepped ashore

      The Tsar was waiting at his door.

      He signalled them to come to him;

      Our tiny traveller followed them.

      There on his throne sat Tsar Saltan,

      420Before his court and everyone,

      Upon his head a shining crown,

      Upon his brow a heavy frown.

      The one-eyed cook and Babarikha

      Sat together with the weaver,

      Their evil toads’ eyes on the Tsar,

      Who asked his guests: ‘Have you come far?

      What is it like where you have been?

      Tell me what wonders you have seen.’

      And this is what the merchants told:

      430‘We have sailed around the world;

      In other lands life isn’t bad,

      This wonder, though, made us most glad.

      There is an island in the sea;

      A city sprung from one lone tree

      Stands there with its towers and arches,

      Churches and monasteries and gardens,

      In one of which a fir-tree grows

      Over a little crystal house,

      And there a squirrel lives – none tamer!

      440And such a marvellous entertainer!

      There that cheery squirrel squats,

      Singing songs and gnawing nuts;

      You never saw, though, nuts like those –

      Where they come from no one knows:

      Their shells are all of solid gold,

      And kernels of pure emerald.

      A guard is always on his beat,

      And serves that squirrel’s every need.

      And Prince Guidon’s chief treasurer

      450He keeps strict count and does not err;

      Coins of gold are minted fast,

      Men salute while marching past,

      Maidens hide in secret vaults

      The gathered piles of emeralds:

      This is an island for the rich

      With palaces, in one of which

      There lives the young and worthy Prince

      Guidon; he sends his compliments.’

      The Tsar was lost in wonder: ‘While

      460I live,’ said he, ‘that splendid isle

      I’ll surely visit, and anon

      I’ll be the guest of Prince Guidon.’

      Those two again, the cook and weaver

      And Widow Baba Babarikha,

      They did not wish the Tsar to see

      The wondrous island in the sea.

      Grinning slyly, said the weaver:

      ‘Surely that’s no wonder – never!

      A plump performing squirrel nibbles

      470Emeralds and golden pebbles

      And sorts them into tidy piles:

      Where’s the wonder – truth or lies?

      I’ll tell you of a real wonder.

      Somewhere the ocean bursts asunder,

      Froths and boils, begins to roar,

      And crashes on the empty shore,

      And from the thundering foam appear

      In scaly chain-mail bright as fire

      Three-and-thirty warriors bold,

      480Out of legends told of old,

      Young and handsome and defiant,

      Each of them a mighty giant,

      Closer-matched you never saw,

      Under their leader Chernomor.

      Now there you have a wonder – say,

      For mo
    re than one year and a day.’

      The guests were willing to believe her;

      They wished no quarrel with the weaver.

      While Tsar Saltan was lost in wonder

      490Prince Guidon buzzed, buzzed in thunder

      And fell upon his aunt’s left eye,

      Which too was dimmed immediately.

      What hue and cry! ‘Quick! Catch it! Catch it!’ –

      ‘Just you wait!’ – ‘Now! Squash it! Smash it!’

      But through the window it was off

      And homeward hardly soon enough.

      The prince was walking on the shore

      Beside the dark blue sea once more

      When on the billows of the sea

      500He saw the white swan swimming; she

      Greeted him: ‘Prince, my brave one – why

      As gloomy as a cloudy sky?

      What troubles you?’ The prince replied:

      ‘A yearning gnaws me deep inside –

      One wonder of all wonders known,

      I’d dearly like to take it home.’

      The swan: ‘What is it, then, this wonder?’

      ‘Somewhere the ocean bursts asunder,

      Froths and boils, begins to roar,

      510And crashes on the empty shore,

      And from the thundering foam appear

      In scaly chain-mail bright as fire

      Three-and-thirty warriors bold,

      Out of legends told of old,

      Young and handsome and defiant,

      Each of them a mighty giant,

      Closer-matched you never saw,

      Under their leader Chernomor.’

      Thus the swan to Prince Guidon:

      520‘So this your heart is set upon …

      My dearest prince, do not be sad,

      I know this wonder; I am glad:

      Those noble warriors of the sea,

      They are my brothers thirty-three.

      Do not fret, and say no more,

      Go home and wait for Chernomor.’

      The prince went home, forgot his plight,

      And from a battlemented height

      Looked down; and all around, the ocean

      530Was rising up in strange commotion;

      It frothed and boiled, began to roar,

      And left upon the empty shore

      Three-and-thirty warriors bold,

      Out of legends told of old,

      Smartly marching two by two,

      In scaly chain-mail shining new;

      Their leader’s silver beard too shone

      As he led them to the town.

      The prince threw open wide his doors

      540To greet his welcome visitors;

      The people hastened to look on.

      Thus spoke the leader to Guidon:

      ‘The swan has put us on patrol;

      To guard your city is our role.

      Every day, unfailingly,

      We’ll leave the waters of the sea

      And posted round your city-wall

      Ensure that it will never fall.

      We’ll meet again, now we must be

      550Back at the bottom of the sea;

      We can’t endure the air for long.’

     


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