Baba-yaga, bone leg
Cases and life of uninhabited persons
Memoirs of fables
Russian folk tale in verse. In the octail chapters
Chapter first
The Abduction
A noisy alarm awoke
With the dawn of a joyful day ...
Are standing near the royal palace
Four fiery horses.
Of stone, sparks of fire
Stallions combed their hooves,
They snore and fight; aspiring
They are firmly held by the bridle.
Bracing himself with a lavish apparel,
With the silver and gold of grief,
With an impatient expectation
A crowd of courtiers of the Tsar,
His colleagues are dashing
In feasts, hunting and war,
In all equally advanced,
Stand on the right side.
To the left is an easy state of the queen:
Beautiful floor in all its glory;
In the clothes of a celebratory girl
In a closed long strip
Beautiful lined the chain
And, with a smile on his face,
As in a storm the sky with a water steppe,
With a nasty system say ...
Here are the soldiers! the Chernobog brady
Swear boldly can light,
That it defeated many,
And the winner is not!
The king leaves. They let him down
His favorite horse,
After him, the wife and son go out,
And the daughter is more clear than the young day;
Mila as a young Simtzerla,
She gives a smile to everyone -
And a row of teeth, whiter than a pearl,
He spies his eyes and souls.
She takes her foot in the stirrup -
Not daring the spirit to translate,
Men envious tribe
Eyes with joy to eat a leg;
Konya strokes the handle with his dexterous -
All the pen is seen in a dream;
Joking nods to someone's head -
And all eyes in that direction;
Look at someone sternly -
He is sad and sullen;
Whether the eyebrows will blink, the word will say -
The mind will put the dead end.
And our grandfathers knew a lot about
To appreciate poetry is true:
Plenira had a whole regiment
Slaves of lovers - and not marvelous! ..
To us, according to legend,
Moving from grandfather to grandson,
That he, despicable, is thrown into torment,
I've suffered all my life; burned that
With one smile of support;
The talker is restless,
From astonishment he was speechless,
When she looked into her eyes ...
Where are the Tsar and the Queen going
And with the white-faced king-maid?
Where men and women are
Was going to accompany them? ..
King, worn out by victorious glory,
He loved to wage war with the beasts,
And like hunting in the old days
Was and women's fun,
Sometimes the queen with him sometimes
Split the field into baiting
She loved. Here I put the point.
Let's go to the field with me ...
Diverse crowds
The village of warriors and wives,
With pests, spears, arrows,
Bustle in the field - noise and ringing!
Around the outline of the net,
Beasts zealous chase
I'm tired of all, like work;
But catching, baiting and shooting
They are doing well: they have already struck
Fox, wolf and ferret,
In addition to the network lured
Short-sighted marmot
And they hunted a couple of rabbits.
The king is pleased. With my own hand
He strokes the soft fluff of the fox;
He stopped, waiting for the queen.
She rushed with an arrow.
Then with the horses of his tired
They went for rest;
Forgetting the hunt, they came to
Crowds of riders of remote
And in the cups they brought honey.
The ladle is filled with effervescent moisture,
And a beneficial stream,
I'm hungry for them,
Gives them strength and courage.
Meanwhile, there is a serious sense
Between the courtiers: whom the wolf
Was he? who is on the fox
Picked up the unshaven hand?
Who driven the little marmot
Is there a silk in it?
Crown of victory over the fox
Attached was the king with the queen,
And their right hand
The wolf and ferret fought.
Hearing their common opinion,
The queen came in admiration,
The Tsar's Mighty Brow
A clear blossom blossomed;
A toast for fishing is a good one,
And here is a frothy phial
To the edge of the cup filled,
Disclaimer: I just found these in my library. I do not have the rights to them,
I just them and decided to share them with you.