The bronze Horseman / Медный всадник. Книга для чтения на английском языке

Besides the woods and streams, what few
Joys poverty could offer to me…
Alas! Ahead dark days were looming.

“Near where I lived, a lovely flower,
One named Nahina, bloomed; of our
Young maids none lovelier than she
Was there. One morn, a bagpipe blowing,
My flocks I grazed where grass was growing
In lush profusion. I could see
A brook wind ’fore me; by it, weaving
A garland, sat a dear young lass…
Her beauty – ah, ’twas past believing! —
Drew and enchanted me, and as
I gazed at her I knew I’d seen her
Before… Yes, knight, it was Nahina,
’Twas fate had brought me there. The flame
Of love was my reward for eyeing
The maid thus brazenly; I came
To know a passion self-denying:
All of its bliss, all of its pain.
“Six months sped by… I thought to win her
And opened up my heart. I said:
‘I love thee dearly, sweet Nahina!’
But my shy sadness only bred
Scorn in her who was vain and prideful;
She was indifferent to my lot,
And said, of all my pain unmindful:
‘Well, shepherd mine, I love thee not!’

“I was estranged from all, and gloomy
Life seemed. The shady native wood,
The games of shepherds – nothing could
My hurt soothe and bring comfort to me
I languished… But the far seas drew me;
To leave my homeland sought I then
And with a band of fighting men
To brave the ocean’s winds capricious…
I hoped to win renown and fame
And for my own Nahina claim.
This planned, according to my wishes,
I called upon some boatmen who
Joined with me in a quest for danger
And gold. My land, to war a stranger,
The clash of steel now heard, and knew
The sound of boat with boat colliding…
On, on we sailed, the billows riding,
My men and I, by sweet hope led,
Both snow and water painting red
For ten long years with gore of foes.
As rumour of our prowess spread,
The foreign rulers came to dread
Our forays, and their champions chose
To flee our blades. Yes, fierce and hearted
Our battles were, and merry, too,
And with the men we had defeated
Together feasted we. But through
The din of war and merrymaking
I heard Nahina’s voice, and for
The sight of her in secret aching,
Before me saw my native shore.
‘Come, men!’ I cried. ‘Did we not roam
The world enough? Time to go home!
‘Neath native eaves we’ll hang our mail;
Is’t not, in faith, for this we hanker!’
And leaving in our wake a trail
Of fear, for Finland we set sail
And in her waters soon dropped anchor.

“Fulfilled were all my dreamings past
That set my lone heart faster beating.
O longed-for moment of our meeting,
O blessed hour, you came at last!
There, at the feet of my proud beauty
I laid my sword and, too, the booty
Of war: pearls, corals, gold. ’Fore her,
By jealous womenfolk surrounded,
Her one-time playmates, my unbounded
Love making me her prisoner,
Mute stood I, but Nahina coolly
Turned from me, saying with no sign
That she would e’er relent: ‘Nay, truly,
I do not love thee, hero mine!’

“I do not like to speak of things
It is pure agony to think of.
E’en now, my son, when at the brink of
I am of death, remembrance brings
Fresh sorrow to my long-numb spirit
And gravely wounds my being whole,
And torn by pain, seared by it, wearied,
I feel the tears down my cheeks roll.

“But hark! In parts I call my home,
Amid the northern fishers lone,
The art of magic lives. The shaded,
Thick-growing forests wrapt in deep,
Eternal silence lie and keep
The secrets of the wizards aged
Who dwell there and whose minds to quest