Yuri Starostin

Veteran Poet - 1,950 Points (4.07.1972.)

The Wedding By Rasul Gamzatov - Poem by Yuri Starostin

The Wedding

The groom is dressed in new Circassian
On the eve of the honey temps.
He's a strong and mischievous guy,
He is the nine thousand years just.

The racemes burn on the slopes of the mountains,
The fur is full of the wine.
And the bride is younger than the groom
On one thousand years.

To prepare to the cherished day,
The irresistible highlander do trimmed
The seven inch mustache
For the greater glory and beauty.

And, sitting on the variegated cushions,
Awakened till the dawn,
The bride plait the two braid
On the ten miles till noon.

And the messengers is the voice of the copper,
Directed by the groom,
Went up, past the cliffs,
To the four sides on the horseback.

And the clouds are crowned their way,
And the flame of the dawns do not ashed afar.
The heralds notify on that,
That the wedding is in the future Thursday...

Come the Thursday and the calling evening.
To ring the zurna without a rest,
In the honor of the wedding the stars, not a candles
Lit up in the heavenly sky.

The shashlik left the grill,
Smoked with the fiery spices
And the ornate groom sat
On the one head top.

And he saw his bride
On a carpet of the green dola.
The edge of her hem was strewed
By the roses from all sides.

The gladness chest of the evening
Do opened itself
For the invited men to view.
And the butler took the alignment to the showman.

The people walked, and juggled,
Rush to dance at full speed.
Already the groom was going to invite
The bride on the dance.

He command to the zurna musicians,
And suddenly, the stars and the moon are,
He saw from the guests at a distance,
The messenger on a nag jade.

The news about the good or a poor
The frowning messenger attend?
He shouted from the horse:
«Hey people,
Stop feast! To a promenade the end! »

An awalking people stood up:
«You're crazy, brother... »
And he answers:
«A wife cannot become a bride,
Yet she have not an age to due!

Before she entered the age of an maturity,
The ruler puts a ban to a wedding! -
«You're late, ' the cry ring on -
«The bride have the eight thousand years! »

«You did not to honor,
Your postscript did not pass.
Where are the eight thousand years to the bride
If the seven thousand nine hundred ones are? »

And took the attend of someone
By the length at least a mile...
'Attract the law - my prove...» -
«And we found that you are the messenger».

«Do found, it is not hurt to know
That the prosecutor is before you! ..»
And the silent strings is on the bergers wedding,
And the celebrations fire is extinguished.

The girl has torture by the sorrow,
Until she has get
The paper with the official seal,
That she is adult.

The initial sound
Lost the tambourine and the kumus.
There was the union of the two hearts bond
In the office of the marriage ceremony

And its are going, wrinkled the slopes,
Century by century, are more hoary a winter,
And the former young couple
Gave birth to a hundred children on the world.

One day, I drove into guests,
With the wine, raised the full horn
And expressed in the toast to a health
All that has in the store for the wedding.

The promise of the sunrise at this hour
Rose on the bluish pass.
When you has not heard my toast,
I'll repeat it for you:

«Live long, like a mountains,
Jump in the saddle from the cradle.
Let the three-digit number
Expresses your years at the end.

Let every highlander will be hefty,
Every berg girl will be gentle,
And born a children count the seven dozen,
Having remained thin, she is.

I wish you therein the river
Boil free between the rocky shores
Be impregnable forever
For the literate detractors.

And highly let your life
Throw you like a string,
Where the cloud is as a cap,
Caucasus met on the lush head.»

Topic(s) of this poem: life

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, December 6, 2014

Poem Edited: Saturday, April 11, 2015

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