DAWN KRYSTAL WILLIAMS
V more tsarevich kupaet konya;
In the sea a prince is bathing his horse;
Slyshit: «Tsarevich! vzglyani na menya!»
He hears: “Prince! look at me!”
Fyrkaet kon’ i ushami pryadet,
His horse snorts and pricks his ears,
Bryzzhet i pleschet i dale plyvyot.
Splashing toward the far-off call.
Slyshit tsarevich: «Ya tsarskaya doch’!
The prince hears: “I am the royal daughter!
Khochesh’ provest’ t’i s tsarevnoyu noch’?»
Would you like to rendezvous with me tonight?”
Vot pokazalas’ ruka iz vody,
A hand appears from the water,
Lovit za kisti shelkóvoi uzdy.
And catches for the horse’s bridle.
Vyshla mladaya potom golova;
Her head has come into view;
V kosu vplelasya morskaya trava.
Sea grass is intertwined with her scythe.
Sinie ochi lyubov’yu goryat;
Her deep blue eyes smolder with love;
Bryzgi na shee, kak zhemchug, drozhat.
Drops on her neck, like pearls, shimmer.
Myslit tsarevich: «Dobro zhe! postoi!»
The prince thinks: “She is lovely! halt!”
Za kosu lovko skhvatil on rukoi.
For she has deftly seized her scythe in her hand.
Derzhit, ruka boevaya sil’na:
He holds on, the hand-to-hand combat is strong;
Plachet i molit i b’yotsya ona.
She cries out and pleads and is vanquished.
K beregu vityaz’ otvazhno plyvyot;
The hero swims bravely toward the shore;
Vyplyl; tovarischei gromko zovyot.
He emerges; he calls loudly to his companions.
«Éi vy! skhodites’, likhie druz’ya!
“All of you! come, my valiant friends!
Glyan’te, kak b’yotsya dobycha moya...
Look, see my conquered treasure...
Chto zh vy stoite smuschyonnoi tolpoi?
Why do you all look confused?
Ali krasy ne vidali takoi?»
Have you never seen such a beauty before?”
Vot oglyanulsya tsarevich nazad:
The prince looks away from them:
Akhnul! pomerk torzhestvuyuschii vzglyad.
He gasps! the triumphant sight has faded.
Vidit: lezhit na peske zolotom
He sees: lying on the golden sand
Chudo morskoe s zelonym khvostom;
A wonder of the sea with a green tail;
Khvost cheshueyu zmeinoi pokryt,
A tail covered with snake scales,
Ves’ zamiraya, svivayas’ drozhit;
Wholly waning, coiled and shivering;
Pena struyami sbegaet s chela,
Foam runs off her brow in streams,
Ochi odela smertel’naya mgla.
A dying haze is in her eyes.
Blednye ruki khvatayut pesok;
Her pale hands clutch at the sand;
Shepchut usta neponyatnyi upryok...
Her lips whisper a vague reproach...
Edet tsarevich zadumchivo proch’.
Pensively the prince goes away.
Budet on pomnit’ pro tsarskuyu doch’!
He will remember the royal daughter!
– Poem by Mikhail Lermontov
– Transliteration and translation by Dawn K. Williams