M.Lermontov, Demon, Chapter 1, V - X - Translation (Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

V

The house large and yard as court
Gudal has built - grey haired now.
For that his slaves had paid a lot
With their work and tears woe.
The shadows of house cast on cliff
At dawn, when sun displays light show,
The stairs, cut out of it,
Direct to river there below,
Where the young duchess Tamara,
In white veil, as a glimpse, at last
Descends for water to Aragva,
The mountain river so fast.

VI

The house mute from top of hills
Was looking down to the valleys.
But there's a feast today in him -
The wine is spilled, the zurna's playing.
(*zurna is the musical instrument)
Gudal his daughter has betrothed,
For feast all relatives collected.
The bride is sitting between girls
On roof, all covered with the carpets,
They all are joined in the plays
And songs. Behind the mountains
The semi-disk of sun hides far;
They're striking rhythmically palms
And singing - then her drum
The young bride's taking. With one
Hand, holding it above her head
And turning round, she's once
Racing lighter than a bird,
Or suddenly she stops, glancing
Over - and her wet eyes are shining
Beneath the jealous eyelash;
Or she is, a little bit inclining,
Along the carpet beautifully gliding
And floating on her god's leg;
And smiling,
Filled with childish joy.
Even a ray of moon, playing along
The moisture indistinct sometimes,
Is hardly be compared with her smile,
Being alive as youth, as life.


VII

I swear with a midnight star,
With ray of east and of sunset:
No any one of Persian governers,
No any tzar of mighty land
Had kissed such eye, as yet;
The Harem's fountain with joy
Has never washed such fair body
With its dew, falling as the pearl,
When heat of summer day exhausting!
And no any hand on earth
Has never untwined such a hair,
Caressing th' lovely face for long;
From that times when the world had lost
The key to Paradise, I know,
That never any beauty blossomed
Under the sun of south either.

YIII

The last time she was dancing there.
Alas! The next day she was waiting
The destiny of mere slave,
The alien motherland and relatives,
Though she was the Gudal's successor
And a quick baby of free fate.
And frequently the secret thoughts
Were darkening the light such features
Of beautiful her face; the movements were
So full of gracia, expression,
Were full of lovely such simplicity,
That even Daemon, flying there,
Would look at her, amazed with picture,
And he would so sadly sigh,
While former brothers recollecting,
And turn his gloomy face away.

IX

And Demon saw... That moment he sensed
Such an intensive feeling and exciting
Inside him suddenly. The soul deserted
Was filled with the beneficial sound -
And he again felt the sacred incentive
Of love, of kindness, of the beauty!
And so long he was such pleased
With sweet such picture - dreams about
The former happines, in a coherent loop,
As if the stars followed each other
And rolled in front him in queue.
Being chained to it by force invisible,
He's got acquainted with new grief:
His breast, again awoken by feeling,
Which was familiar to him.
Was this the sign of the renaissance?
Hardly he could find word to tempt
In his mind, being devastated...
Forget? - The God's bliss going that way,
But Demon chooses other, however! ...

X

Having tormented his good horse,
To marriage feast up to sunset
The bridegroom hurried, and green shores
Of the Aragva-river he had met.
Under the heavy burden of the gifts,
Slowly moving, hardly stepping,
The camels go in row, flickering
One after one on rocky way.
Their bells are ringing. He himself,
The governer of Sinodal, directs
This caravan, his supple waist
Is strapped round his waist by belt.
The setting of his sabre and dagger
Is glittering in sunshine, behind his back
The rifle is, all notched with a fret.
The wind is playing with the sleeves
Of his chuha - the coat this
With golden lace is wholy trimmed;
His saddle is embroidered with silk
And tassels are there on the bridle;
The horse is covered all with foam,
The priceless breed, of gold colour.
This proud pet of Kharabakh
Moves with his ears, seem to scare,
And snorts, looking aside from height
To downslope on the jumping waves.
Such dangerous, narrow is the way
Along the coast! There are the rocks
To left side, to the right - the river restless.
It is late. On the mount top,
Covered with snow, the rouge turns pale,
And upwards the haze is raising...
The caravan has quickened pace...
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