Yuri Starostin

Veteran Poet - 1,950 Points (4.07.1972.)

The Vityaz In A Tiger Skin Shota Rustaveli (N.Zabolotsky's Lane) The Initial Story About Rostevan, The Arabian Tsar - Poem by Yuri Starostin

THE INITIAL STORY ABOUT ROSTEVAN, THE ARABIAN TSAR

There is lived in Arabia the tsar from the god, the happy tsar,
Rostevan, the skilful soldier and the fair lord.
Being indulgent and generous, stately and truthful,
He was the terrible commander and the eloquent wise man.

Except the daughter, the lord had no other fumes.
The daughter by his star shone and there was to him a joy.
The tsarevna on the one sight is captivated a glory heroes.
To sing her worthy, need a wise men a lot of.

Named Tinatin given her. Only the tsarevna has grown up
And has eclipsed the world by the shine of a young forehead,
The tsar has collected the vazyr, the experts of the good and of the evil,
And has opened the conversation with them about a high cases.

The tsar has told: 'When the rose dries under an old age, withering,
The young rose blossoms instead this old rose.
Here and I do not see a light, the look dim, exhausted.
The fair council I am waited from your mind.

My life approaches to the end, the old age is worse than any pain.
Tomorrow, if not today, I die on the divine will.
And the light is nothing for if a gloom is not to avoid in this vale!
Let the daughter, my star, will be established on a throne '.


But the vazyrs answered: ' Tsar, to compete the flaved moon,
As though a stars shone, no one to be compared.
The withering rose breathes more sweet the young one.
What do you complain about an old age and call its by the trouble?

No, our rose does not fade, do not repeat to us, tsar, about it!
But your council, even the worstest one, is not a couple to other councils.
Do thus as you have conceived, if other outcome is unknown.
Let that will sit on a throne, whose face shines by the light!

Though and the woman is, but the god affirms the tsarin.
We do not flatter: she is able to work on a throne.
Having not in vain the face of a tsarevna shines to the world, as a reveille:
A children of a lion are equal one to one, whether a lion or a lioness is '.

The son of the grandee-commander, being the glorified spaspet,
The Avtandil-military leader got the peak of a young years.
Harmonous by the camp, esteemed his by the contender of a planets,
But the eyelashes of the sun-faced girl have leaded him to a troubles.

Сoncealed the love to a tsarevna, he suffer, incinerated.
The roses of his cheeks turned pale in the silence lonely,
And grew at each meeting a flame of the passion concealed...
So the desponding enamoured man is worthy of the regret!

Dared in the day, wherein the deal with the sun-faced tsarevna has,
The pain of his soul was replaced by the light sincere pleasure.
He told: 'Now more and more, to each daily meet
I will be free from my pitiable destiny'.

Rostevan on all mound has dispatched such decree:
'Tinatin on an imperial throne will correct instead us.
Let she shines to the world, as the regal diamond!
Come to eulogise the daughter-tsarina in the good hour! '

And Arabs have committed to the tsar, and there the grandees have arrived,
And Sograt, favourite vazyr, with Avtandil has arrived too,
And, when they built the throne arranged comely,
All people have told in the delight: There is no price to it, oh my God! '

And when the tsar raise a tsarevna to the throne before all cathedral,
And when he was crowned her by the marvellous regal attire, -
Having an imperial sceptre, in a crown, eulogised by the chorus,
The maiden looked at a people by the inspired-mild look.

And all gathered men were inclined before her downwards,
And recognised this maiden by the greatest tsarinas,
And the kimvals have struck, and, as the wings of the black birds,
All in the tears, an arrows of a maidens eyelashes have trembled.


It seemed to her: the father throne is given her out of a merits,
Therefore the garden of the roses grown in the tears, nurtured by the south.
The tsar told: 'Fathers and children, we reign here one after one.
Have not given you a throne, I would be killed by an foe!

Do not languish in vain, daughter! - he asked, admonishing. -
You are our hope now, I have given all of the rights to you.
The Arabian tsarin, be the ruler of the country,
Wisely, modestly, control the state perspicacious.


Both to a tall weeds, and to the roses the sun shines all year long, -
Be and you the same sun for a slaves and for a misters.
Involve the people to you by the imperial generosity and caress,
Remember: the sea will not dry, wasting a chasms of the waters.

The generosity -is a glory of a sovereigns and a knowledge basis.
Showing the marvellous generosity, the lord conquer even the malicious one.
To eat and to drink need to anyone, in that I do not see bad.
That you will hide - that you will ruin, that you will share — that will return again '.

The obedient daughter listen the father lectures,
Pierce by the light mind without a boredom in the admonition.
The tsar suited a cheerful feast, had a fun himself much,
The sun by the marvellous beauty imitated the young maiden.

And the tsarina direct to cause the uncle-pestun:
'Remains the treasury under your seals.
Open the chests with a money and clean them to the bottom:
Daughter of the tsar, to share the riches I should '.

The tsarina share all that, she consider, is her property since the birth.
The income added- to all - both notable and not notable ones.
The maiden that and spoke: 'Let to the parent to please
Nowadays all my riches will given to the people.

Open a pantries, unlock all cellars!
Deduce a horses, hostler! Take out a pearls, a lals!
I will regret nothing! 'And the troоps, having filled a halls,
Aspired on an the treasures of the tsarina, as a jackals.

As a lawful spoil of the won countries,
They have stolen all horses, so nourished till now.
And the maiden was similar to a heavenly blizzard,
That anyone could fill his purse by her gifts.

The first day has passed in the amusements.
A numerous visitors surrounded the lord, drank, eats, feasted.
Suddenly he hung by the head, full of the grieves.
'What has happened with the lord? ' - to whisper begun.

Avtandil-military leader with virtuous Sograt
Sat near at the head of others court people on the feast.
Sewing the father of the tsarin filled by the strange sorrow, -
'What is happened with the tsar? ' - they involuntarily began to ask there.

And have solved: 'Our lord became thoughtful is not for the good,
So nobody could not offend a sovereign on a feast! '
Avtandil has told to Sograt: 'This strange melancholy
We try to dispel: it is not to us on an interior '.

Grey-bearded Sograt stand, the warrior stand, harmonous a camp,
They have approached to the lord - everyone with the lifted glass, -
Have knelt on a gold woven carpet,
And Sograt has entered in a conversation with aged Rostevan:

'You become sad, great tsar! Your look does not laugh any more.
Well, you are right! Even a drachmas find out in your cellars.
Your daughter share the riches to needy anyone.
To be better she is not be the tsarin, than to struggle to you with a need! '

Having looked back on the vazyr, the tsar-father has grinned,
Was surprised: as he dares to reproach him, the impudent fellow.
'You have borrowed me nicely, my glorified wise man,
But mistaken, asserting that the Arabian tsar -is the miser!

No, vazyr, not these thoughts deliver to me a torture!
I became old, an years leave, I feel a death coming.
Who, tell, now takes to replace me in the battle?
Who will can to adopt my skill in the military deed?

The destiny has not given me the son. My life -is a continuous flour.
And though the terrestrial boredom became habitual for me, -
The son would be equal to me, as a dashing marksman from an onions...
Only partly Avtandil has my science to preserve'.

Having heard the imperial word, Avtandil smiled,
Has lighted up all valley by the shine- glow smile.
Has looked down eyes before the tsar, he was young, full of the strength.
'What is you laugh, vityaz? - The tsar, frowned, ask. -

Unless my speech is mad and is worthy to the censure? '
'A sovereign, - has answered the hero, - give firstly to me the promise,
That you will not condemn me for the offensive recognition,
You will not betray me on the torments, you will not come in the indignation'.


Having sworn by the lovely daughter that as the sun burnt
The tsar has told: 'Be not afraid, vityaz, tell me the truth dare'.
'Tsar, - the brave vityaz has told, - I am betrayed to you entirely,
But in vain you are proud, this deal is unworthy!

I am, your true commander, only a dust at the imperial feet,
But let the army solves who is more skilful marksmen.
Enter on the competition, sovereign, and the god sees,
The onion and arrows will judge us and will give you a lesson '.

The tsar has exclaimed: 'I with you speak not for an amusement.
If you has started dispute with me, you will not leave from a punishment!
We will set the best soldiers of the mound in the witnesses,
The field will quickly find out, who from us is worthy the glories '.

So they have agreed this evening between themselves.
The tsar joked and smiled, loted to the hero.
To conclude solved: who will not cope with the shoot,
That passes three days with the uncovered head.

And to herd he ordered: 'Being scattered by a chain long,
Your should - from a slum to drive on us a jamb of an animal '.
And he were invited the fighters on competition by all team,
And has finished a cheerful feast, and has left a wine bowl.

In the expensive turban, in the gun as a liley, he is harmonous a camp,
The vityas has arrived to a palace beyond Rostevan at a dawn.
With the high lifted face, the shine-dawn and ruddy face,
He flaunted on the horse in the gold-woven dress.

Soon the lord depart, equipped for the hunt.
The meadow appointed earlier, has been surrounded by the people.
The shouts sounded in the distance -the animal gon has begun has begun,
And marksman have seized the onions as the law ordered.

The tsar has ordered to the twelve favourites: 'Forward, follow me!
Keep the onions ready, prepare the arrows to the action!
Count up, how many a wildfowl I will kill by mine arm! '
Meanwhile the wood animals came nearer to the trapper.

The numerous herd has appeared afar,
The chamoises, the fallow deer and the deer ran on the hunters.
The tsar and the vityaz met them by the hailstones of an arrows, not knowing a laziness.
Beholding their quickness, the people were in the amazing.

The dust is risen to the sky, muffled up in a haze the sun,
The flood flew around by the river, the sweat streamed on a forehead.
But everyone attacking sent an arrow for the arrow,
And it was impossible to take cover neither to a deer, nor a goat.

They have quickly galloped the field, expel all of the wild beasts,
Have to death laid many ones, have soiled the earth by the blood.
'A cypress in the Eden gardens! There is another that hardly probable! '
So those was repeated about the vityaz who observed them dispute.

The field has an edge, the dense wood rose behind a field,
The rocks stuck out in the distance, being piled up on the steep for the steep.
An animals purse in a slum, there they were rescued by a happy chance,
To really overtakes them in a thicket even the mighty horse could not.

The tsar, tired, but happy, proclaimed: 'Washing took! '
Avtandil disagreed, wiping a sweat from a forehead.
Listen their cheerful dispute, the team has approached to them.
The tsar told: 'Tell out any flattery, how are you doing? '

'A sovereign, - the servants told, - no to be mistaken,
Know that you cannot compete with young Avtandil.
To help you we have no a forces, we are obliged to admit,
That his deer had no a place to hide from an arrows.

We have pinned for you twenty times on the hundred animals,
Only the account of Avtandil will be more on the twenty pieces.
He shoots without a miss, you, tsar, besides a will,
Swept on this field a many arrows in vain '.

The tsar has counted this case as an amusing fight in a backgammon.
The success of the pupil was more sweet a sunlight for him.
The nightingale does not love a rose as he loved the spaspet.
And his grief has disappeared, and the soul has been warmed.

Both have sat down under trees, have given to the warriors a signal,
And the armies as a guard of the ears, have directed on a halt,
And the twelve servants of the tsar, everyone is harmonous and daring,
Observed for the river and the ledges of the rocks.

Topic(s) of this poem: hero


Comments about The Vityaz In A Tiger Skin Shota Rustaveli (N.Zabolotsky's Lane) The Initial Story About Rostevan, The Arabian Tsar by Yuri Starostin

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags


Poem Submitted: Monday, November 30, 2015

Poem Edited: Monday, November 30, 2015


[Report Error]