Tsar-Maiden, Цветаева Марина Ивановна, Год: 2022

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Время на прочтение: 54 минут(ы)
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Like for a young snake an old python,
So for a young wife an old husband.
Face with pumpkin, stomach with sphere, breathe -trembles chest,
From the mustache, the district reeks of fumes for a hundred versts.
Like son into ceiling for a young stepmother,
Not a rider, not a shooter, not a strongman, not a robber,
Instead of cheeks — hollows, lips tightly silent.
Like in palace front garden harp strums after midnight.
Lead him aside with the eye —
Looks at the wall.
Give with side
Accidentally
I will harm!
THE FIRST NIGHT
Sleeps the prince, prostrated,
He hears nothing as he sleeps,
And the crescent moon has rested
Like, upon his face, a stick.
As if with a wand had lied:
With a finger, oh so light.
And the crazy broad
Stands over the child.
‘Your eyelashes are closed and burned
Without a flame!
For what I am not a maiden,
But a wife alien!
For what reason people sleep,
And I cry?
For what reason not dear mother
But stepmother am I?
On a single bed
Child with dear mom.
Has a linen head
This child of mine!
Don’t weep, the king of sea!
Be quiet, dog on chain!
Be gone, stupid dream!
The child — mine!
You’ll put egg in boiling water —
How boil it will not?
Like flower face of yours —
It will not covet?
For your only bed, as is,
I am born and alive.
I am servant to the prince —
I am not king’s wife.
Rip me on the bast,
Roast for dinner to dogs!
Would, with music best
I’ll manage the toy?
I look in mirror and I muse:
Alya’s chest is flat?
Do you want as a necklace
I’ll give two eyes as gift?
I will not expend — in vain!’
And son says in response,
‘For grown stepchildren — not aged
Mother walks in trace.’
***
‘Let me straighten out the pillow!’
‘I will settle down myself!’
‘How will I leave you?’
‘I will get by myself!’
‘And above? And beneath?’
‘Your likeness I hate!’
‘I can see that your boyish reason
With ringing on ocean has sailed.
Are not white Alya’s hands?’
‘Whiter is the sea foam!’
‘Are not Alya’s lips red?’
‘Redder is the sea foam!’
‘Is not Alya’s chest high?’
‘For me what is chest — what is board!’
‘May I lie down beside?’
‘Narrow is the bed!’
‘While it is narrow — roll into tube!
Are my silks talkative? I’ll throw off my skirt!
Known now at night are the things that I knew:
I am a peasant, your soul’s servant!’
And the prince in response
The same as such:
All: do not touch, worthless,
Worthless, do not touch!
‘Not white indeed is Alya’s face?’
‘Do not fear kinship, but mischief quit!’
‘Oh, why did I not give you birth?’
‘From you nothing do I need!’
‘Oh, the temples, the hair, of mine!’
‘The ship boards of mine!’
***
Late light at night, the strumming of strings…
You are the diligent whisperer of princes
You are burning candles — below with the head,
He sings the psalms in the way of the dance.
He spits on servants, he presses flies,
Aloud he glories the relatives.
You will sweat yourself, soul, you will sweat,
Under the holy lamp the bald patch bends.
My saliva, saliva, loyal spit!
In my lamp — a cork is hid.
I’m sorcerer-old man not without cause:
Don’t I see the shuttle of the prince?
The neck of the swan, high, and of white chest,
In it my Prince, and with him I am friends.
The azure ripples arose:
Gusli ringing — fire ship — to us!
Marvel with me, Moses the prophet!
Your beautiful burning bush — is more red!
In the middle, with prostrate arm,
Sometime the angel, warrior at other time.
What parable? What neighbor-for-guest?
Sometimes in armor, sometimes in vestments dressed!
From ship two light boards he would press,
And to the prince he gives two hands.
My prince is alarmed — he’s deceased! —
Floorboards at the night: screech and screech,
Voice in the night: ‘Uncle, old man!
Teach me how to enchant!
The bed of the prince, I hate!
I want with prince the night to spend.’
‘What so, mother, who with stepson sleeps?’
‘Tsar with the bottle snores in embrace.
You untie the prince’s blood:
Lie upon my chest like a kite!’
Into the beard the old man laughed:
Although the queen, simple of tongue!
To spend the night alone, go, be fast by the clock!
‘Why, beauty, do you put me to work?’
‘A gift of six hundred sables I will bear.’
‘To me one spitter of yours is more dear!’
‘Stingray of overseas cloth on kaftan.’
‘From your cloth roll up sarafan!’
‘Thus I’ll load the coins’ cast iron.’
‘Cheap, cheap is your king’s son!
Bend to me, Queen, with your ear,
The price I will tell you with a whisper.’
Like a pillar of salt grown dead,
As a string thus will rise, thus will break,
Thus the forehead with spit he will cover!
‘Rude man! Damn cheek! Serf, ever poor!
To kiss you — I’ll hang myself if such!’
The old man wiped the bald patch:
‘Don’t pity the beauty, you want the use!
Look into the iconic firs!
Blow and spit! Make a ripple!
What do you see?’ ‘A vessel.
Without rowers and sails,
Carries on the sea.’
‘Well?’ ‘Somehow dark it is.’
Spit on the very bottom of it!
‘Well?’ ‘He runs readily!
Someone in the bed would lie:
The young man…
My stepson is light!’
Into the blue distance staring.
He cannot see anything.
‘Into the oil drop the ring!
Well?’ ‘The arms are apart.
In the hand on the left are the beads,
Gusli is on the right.
Against the stern he leaned.
Holds the thought in mind.’
‘With right foot stomp.
What do you see?’
‘Sails out another ship
In the blue abyss of the sea.’
Fixedly into blue waves
He put the tall chest.
In the middle — fire,
The purple marquee.’
‘Go the round full!
Look sharper, well!’
‘Soul was stolen in chest!
Maiden is of all ahead!
The giant’s height,
Belt — self-whip kite,
Up with the head to stars,
From head to tail of horse,
An earring in ear, the moon…’
‘Stomp with the left foot!’
With the left foot he will stomp,
Thus he will moan looking up!
And will crash on the back,
The knees not having bent!
Thus will knock the head’s temple
On the stove damper!
Into the window will look
The guard of night, the moon.
***
You left luggage on the bench.
‘Oh you, private broad’s deeds!’
‘Take from the nearest, from the neck
From handkerchief — the pin.
You rest on her tall chest,
With blood full let her drink.
And young falcon you captivate,
Gorgeous one, remember me!’
At the tight arm I have yanked:
Coloured of apple, chest opens!
I take out from sinful flesh
Purple — full — pin:
‘For the love of his
To drop all the blood!
Out from all veins
For one single night!’
That needle again
With fanged mouth — grab!
‘How will start in waves
Maiden-Beast to get up’
And to him the snake, throat around,
That all of his love — inside out!
From that pin — we will soundly sleep,
She calls him, and his sleep is more deep…
Gentler than the grass will lie the young man,
From the bloody pin.
I lie — leave in hand
The shreds of beard!
And one in grief:
‘Deposit receive!’
And, as to disheveled beard clinging all the while,
Into the night — with a distorted smile.
***
My sleepless prince is lying down,
Throwing his wings like a swan:
‘I’d give the patronal dignity in all
To who would circulate my soul!
Not eaten is the ruddy apple,
Do not sing the women’s lips,
All in the fog of purple
The blue verst to distance leads.
What ruler will I be for you,
Which hero — strong man —
I, a thin-chested gossip
Not understanding anything!
Like with contact-infantry-cavalry
When is not willing to the maid!’
And bending on the elbow
So dull he looks into the night.
***
Scrape after scrape behind the door…
‘Uncle, are you, sir?’
‘I, the loafer of yours,
Your bald-headed serf!
My light ear, again your forehead you bend?
You weak voice by force had me dragged!
Why do you not sleep?’ ‘I don’t sleep, I doze not,
I catch sandman, rainbow bird.
Light is the step, and the bird is near,
But I have not a net, no snare.’
‘Would you not the poppies drink?’
‘In a tincture it is not!
‘And so in these tricks
I have bogged down up to chest.’
All caress the daytime-day,
Console, babysit —
Like a flower I am,
A dandelion!
From what does the soul press,
Small to breath is chest?’
‘For the Wonderbird a nest
In it has made.’
‘For what reason on broad’s river
All — like lock with rust?’
‘For it is of narrow shoulder:
Like for the guests — a house!’
‘Why the ship upon the seas
Sails without oars?’
‘For behind all of the seas
The Tsar-Maiden resides!’
FIRST MEETING
Pigeons have not flown
To window after grain —
The humpbacked Prince arose,
Angstful all the way.
Hoops around the eyes
Circles would beat.
Thus, again on carpet —
With the left foot!
Having touched the crest —
Released from the hands!
Pulled on the boot —
And was frozen thus.
‘Not to know, that for women
My essence is a good one!
Arms and legs are weak, and
Also there are — noodles!
Reward with a dressing gown
The baptized world!
The whole regiment will go
Into uniform.
Who me to a Tatar
Or to a Turk?
Where are eyes of azure?
Two holes that are black.
More snowy than a tablecloth,
Whole story — corpse!
All the blood to a drop
Gathered to the lips!
From bashfulness, cornflower
I won’t tear in fields.
You throw me in water —
As a cork I’ll rise!
The sun is receding,
Its face does not show.
I see, Friday, at midnight
In the world he was born.
Before love insipid,
To oneself not dear —
I see, the moon, weeping,
Had dropped a tear.’
***
With weak hands
Along twisted railings,
With weak steps
On the steep stairways.
Did not trumpet dawn
With the castle walls.
Yegory in the heaven
Did not start a war.
Blacksmith sleeps on mountains,
Mower sleeps in pile.
In the window auditory
Whose is the black eye?
What kind of a peeper
Measures distance swells —
Earlier than the pigeons,
Than dovecotes more tall?
There is no such vertex,
And abrupt is angst!
Better than all distance —
The black stare-versts.
Beware, all the people, of
The unheated arrows!
Wind with chest and curls, and
Brave like a lover.
And jealous till sickness!
Everywhere — take the hand!
That my friend be quick and
Take from the wind?
‘My present deceitful,
Treasure you can’t get!
Like the foggy pole,
And the smoke of steppe…
Sings — buries the father,
And will step with foot —
And at once will bury
Foot within a boot.
Step the slope beside,
Swim in water far…
You won’t get out of sight
Of the young stepmother!
Still to the Beast-Soldier
You won’t open eyes:
In your sweet knob
Like a snake I bite!’
***
Oh you liberty! — dear! — shipboard!
The lullaby ocean road!
***
Riding from the night attack
(On the forehead — the large dew),
At the window, over seaside,
The Tsar-Maiden clears the sword.
On right shoulder — a pigeon,
On left shoulder — a merlin.
And at her feet a nurse
Is cleaning her boots.
‘Oh, my tsar, the Tsar-Maiden,
Vortex-Maiden, Fire-Maiden!
I don’t have sweetness with you,
You don’t lay to rest my age.
I will look at mane of curls,
I will look at glance on fire —
Like me to you, a lioness
Has fed with a lion’s milk!
Rises day — you smite down foe,
Beats the noon — you prowl the forests,
Falls the evening — you dance on abysses,
Midnight at home — you feast with regiment.
People sleep — you sharpen sword,
In the church — you fed the dogs.
All relatives have retreated.
Give me the right foot!’
Laughed the Tsar-Maiden:
‘I like it without kinfolk!
Fire is my father, water — mother,
Wind — my brother, my sister — Storm.
I do not need other kinfolk!’
Nurse grew angry: ‘It is full
To neigh exactly like a mare!
How with this neighing
Would not frighten all the guests!’
Louder laughs the Tsar-Maiden:
‘This sweetness — the grooms!
My groom is my bright sword,
My sword, cheerful:
I do not need other friends!’
The nurse had grown sad:
‘Would you tear flowers in the field,
Would you get girlfriends for yourself,
Would you have a little fun…’
Maiden answered with a grin:
‘Trumpet call — is my fun!
I do not need other fun!’
‘Would you get married to handsome man’ —
Nurse is sobbing at the feet —
‘Would throw off disgusting clothes,
And upon luxurious cradle,
Worry over the diaper,
All night long, instead of partying,
You would be singing all the time.’
The Maiden stomped with her foot:
‘Nurse, I am Tsar-Maiden!
What the devil for me are your diapers!
Abusive life is my concern!
I do not need other worries!
Step back, nurse, what is the
Marvellous ringing of the water?
Why do under my window
Waves babble after words?’
***
Gusli, gusli — callers,
An amusement of mine!
From the jagged out crown
I am not worth a damn.
I did not hear as women
In the night push on the dreams.
Harp, harp — all amusement
Of the eighteenth spring!
I, a narrow-chested fellow,
Of abusive life don’t know.
Harp, harp — from fairy tales
To me — is the only law!
To the deadly sweat I won’t
Leave behind myself the string!
Harp, harp — all amusement
Of the eighteenth spring!
***
Beamed the Tsar Maiden:
Suddenly gilded the house.
‘Don’t like broads? Don’t like fights?
Well, I have no need of you!
How, to example, I’m Tsar-Maiden,
Thus, comes out — Tsar-You-Maiden!
Well with such a voice
Husband won’t mess up spinning wheel.’
Tsar then clapped with her palms:
‘Led, that in the same hour
They saddled the whirlwind-horse.’
She clapped with her palms two times:
‘Led, that in the same hour
King was ready to swim away!’
Three times she clapped with her palms:
‘Led, that in the same hour
For a farewell parade
There, upon the grand square,
Gathered all our regiments!’
‘Old fool, why do you whimper?
It is pity that our
Last day stands, of Tsar-Maiden?’
‘I’ve gone mad from jubilation —
Nurse whimpers under the feet —
To know, that behind my tearful prayers,
To weave nest for you, my nestless eagle!
To know, cards lied not without reason,
To know, I all nights without reason
Lurking, I for you was sowing
The wedding attire.
I will come to put an iron:
Though it’s ironed, and get tired
For the beauty, spend a little…’
‘Why have you twisted the mouth?’
‘Like within a coat guilded,
Worthless for a scolding horse,
Really with a rag of satin
My own fortune I will block?
I’ve been the lord of the whole army —
Thus I will hand even one!
With my only ray
We’ll understand the crescent moon.’
Girded here with a saber,
Whispered into a tanned fist,
And responding to her calling
Crescent-Hors upon her porch
Flies with a white lightning.
‘Well, we’ll part, nurse, so?
There, beyond the grand square,
We’ll have no time for you.’
She grandly then kissed the nanny
In the wrinkled, salty mouth.
And from a carved window
And sweeping on spine of stallion
Like a white bird she then waved.
***
To the sun stand in rows
The oats’ ears —
Then the steel warriors
Align on square.
Fameless rumor went by row:
‘There won’t be Maiden-our-Tsar!’
And what for us is sky’s dawn,
When earthly dawn is ours!
Stomp the seeds, enemy stallion!
All in sea is bell, and rings!
And the sigh: ‘Maiden! Maiden!’
And rumble: ‘Our king! King! King!’
Chest in light armour, forehead — busted,
To sunflower the face is equal.
How from one chest with a thunder:
‘The Archangel Michael!’
‘Be well, the camp mighty!’ —
Thunders the thundering voice.
To the river — and, cutting through clouds,
She had curried among rows.
Horse with Maiden grew together:
Can’t from distance tell apart:
The thin tail, though seven-haired
Sultan with the maiden’s head!
Like a vortex among rows is swirling,
Sweat — hail through flame.
If where at the end is quiet,
It thunders at the other end.
Never more menacing but better
The thick-lipped trumpeter in pipe didn’t blow.
Both arms the thunder-drummer
Beat out on his elbow.
Like cloudy host in azure —
Regiment after regiment.
And gives to the troops Maiden-Tsar
The sign of raspberry handkerchief.
‘Farewell, loyal soldier’s attire!’
Camp on the sea, camp on the land!
To you — such a commander,
I will not know such command.
I have no son, I have no daughter,
I’ll disappear without a trace!
He is the air to the treasure
Who jumps upon the mane of horse.
I go to alien religion,
Give up my freedom with a pence…
But you will not become women
Upon my own example’s trace!’
Just like the forest made of gold —
Bend all the banners.
Like a face that’s been revealed —
Bend the knees.
Just like rivers into high water —
Pour light tears.
***
‘Roar — to sundresses, blood — to armor!’
To the heights the Maiden prays.
‘Meet the coming death with laughter
My diligent warriors.
Have you decided to annoy me?’
Upon the stirrups she then stands,
And the arms — powerful and large ones —
She gives away unto a kiss…
‘Don’t spoil the children, don’t beat women,
The novelty with a sword cut!
And recall me — be drunken
Today on all our punishment!’
‘Farewell’ — made black together,
‘Forgive’ — she broke the shield…
Runs, and against the order
The thunder-drummer runs behind.
‘How your arms have been beaten,
Nail of your pinky to me give!’
To all I’ll say with arm sullen
Distracts the fire — handkerchief.
Into two the shawl does tear,
And, bending to the shoulder head:
‘Here is a half, the drummer!
The other to piper will extend.’
***
We will sing the pitiful verse:
How Tsar-Maiden parted with horse.
How she on the mane took the friend,
How in mouth a block of sugar she placed,
Hotter than fire she kissed.
Past eyes frightful, eyes meek,
She pressed won — with cheek of gold
On equine neck of the swan, bold…
Having tied up the belt,
With a bow to earth she did bend,
That then obediently
The white horse in response bent the knee,
How bending, that nobody would hear,
She made for him a speech for the ear.
***
And we will also add to this,
That all of his tears I kissed
Such that her groom and brother
With brown eyes dear and tender,
Like all veins strained on the forehead,
She would bite her lips till blood.
How up the gangway she went
With a hundred-pud fifth,
How she shook dirt from the feet,
How the arm she had waved.
Regiment fell dead drunk.
Horse went with foam, jumping.
Spirit flew out of the drum.
Popped the chest of the piper.
***
‘What fire runs in blue steppe waters?’
‘Beautiful woman is swimming toward happiness.’
‘Who so well her steering wheel-ship directs?’
‘Sea is directing it, thus it is rushing ahead!’
‘And under tent, with a face like a golden ball,
Who is the warrior — demon — angel?
The tailed helmet was knocked aside by the wind,
With height — tower, in shoulders — eight feet!
In cold abyss, let, baptize the merchant’s creature?’
‘Rushes to bride, and the name — Maiden-Tsar.’
‘How is this?’ ‘Thus it is!’ ‘What is beauty without braids?’
‘Enough braids everywhere! And light-faced, round-faced,’
‘To sun with jealousy!’ ‘The shoulders are too tall!’
‘And the belt? Ring takes belts after all!
No reason to argue! Like soul-freedom:
Just like shoulders — I would have gone in the ring!
Thus, having had tea the day before yesterday,
Ended the argument the shark and the whale.
***
Rests the beauty-ripple
From its agreeable night.
They walk gloriously, equal,
They walk gloriously, they walk hot.
Like a crescent in full moon —
The whole sea did ring.
My lamb veins —
Strings, the talking strings!
On his back lies the Tsar’s son,
Pressing lovingly the gusli,
Fingers move without stumbling,
They move gloriously, they move equally.
In fine hour before sunrise
My advice to you — who ever was?
Change water way with passion!
Leave the broad — go to the fishes!
They say: bitter is fish poison,
They say: the broad’s poison — too!
That at least it does not argue,
How from her the skin tear you!
To broad: ‘Fool!’ She: ‘dear!’
You hit her in face, she: ‘Tender!’
Your strength do not lose
In fine hour before sunrise!
Eh you, sons of the tsar!
Eh we, pines — black wood!
Not a day for you, not night either,
No dawn for you, not the moon.
Not a ship for you, no cradle,
In it is no husband, no maid,
Not to right, and not to left, no fiddle,
No harmonica in hand…
Suddenly jumps the ship-boat,
How with a jump to start!
It’s not equal, it’s not hot:
Walks in gallop, walks to side.
So such foolishness and wild,
The Novgorod’s century!
‘Well-so, look-so at me, uncle:
What ship will encounter we?’
He responded with a grin:
(Spirit sensed of Tsar-Maiden!)
‘Not in waves, not in broad, brains!
Nothing to marvel — it became.
To sail in sea — not strawberry picking
But the chess figurines!
There is the ship, the cradle in it!
Better sing and sing and sing.’
He is singing, and around roars:
Like two grappling lions!
To his chest rises gusli-player:
‘What parable? You’ve gone insane?
Before dawn, see, wholesome is hour,
And the wave, see — blood and blood!’
‘To the health, my son, to your desire!’
‘No — not to the lullaby!’
The abyss with the striped tigress:
The wave purple, the wave red…
‘Sleep, son, in the sleepy hour!’
‘No, uncle, I’ve not time for bed!’
He wants to rise, and the pin
Into collar — how will drive!
He wants to rise, and sleep inclines,
Like a lamb upon the grass,
Like a merchant on counter throws…
He sleeps…
Here will flinch the dung beetle,
Faithless slave, Jewish beast:
Fire-Ship stands, guest severe,
With ship-canoe — chest to chest.
***
Not the sun upon stairs golden —
On red gangway leaves the Tsar-Maiden.
Under the military and foot with weight
The shuttle almost did with eggshell crack.
Hands on the sides — like heat-samovar!
Speaks in the loud voice: ‘The harpist is where?’
Uncle into her feet — totally dog-like went!
And like a dog from fear he did sit.
Given to sing with a bald head on the boards!
Given to lick, to shine, to suck the boots!
How kicks him on the head the Tsar-Maiden:
‘What is the flea — upon the boot of mine?’
How stomps he with a heel upon a boat:
Uncle — head over heels, and waves — prone!
‘Our boot-lollipop you will remember!
Where hussar — son of tsar — noble singer?’
With spike-whistle into the knees: They sleep!
‘I’m after your snake whistle — bang on cheek —
And what a trepidation it sends:
With serpent has stunk up the hand!
Quiet, waves, the blue sea host!
I cannot hear the voice! —
Where is he?’ ‘In spirit the whole point I’ll present —
Would you please your knee bend!’
He looks: not amber-silk — product-trash:
At bottom is harpist, with harp in embrace!
She looked — how she will be laughing!
In hands — how she will splash
‘I’m — so, she still sucks on pacifier,
She still in a diaper urinates!
Without ring, without priest, a corolla without,
Well, I had to grieve about what?
I did not think myself an infant
To make money from just sight!
I forgot for you the diapers —
Ask me for an oversight!
I look at you, my dear:
To look at the sight — not a sight!’
And leads all —
On eyebrows,
On forehead
With the hand.
‘Little one!
Dear one!
And so bad!
In silver bib,
And amusing rings.
And it’s nothing that he’s thin —
He is nice in the face.’
From eyebrows he chases the flies,
Hand with his own he aligns.
‘How crust is dry!
Without crumb — how!
Your — feather!
My — paw!
And each finger
Like the tsar chained!
And mine — ringless
And also black!
Yours — to sow the rugs,
Mine — to uproot oaks.’
And he leaned to amour
With forehead dark and convex —
On the hair
And upon the temples …
‘Your thin
Hair — of linen!
And mine — stallion’s
That strings ring!
Let, I’ll seek the cat
I will scratch the head.
I will babysit such a kid,
My spiderweb, silk, reed!’
And suddenly with a voice full of anger:
‘Oh old serpent-spider!
Agreeable on cruelty:
A bad exit you lead!
Thus, leading on snow
With bare feet,
She gave drink till drunkenness,
Food till fullness…
Thinner than a cane!’
And uncle — trickster:
‘Was there bone,
Meat will grow there!
Well, what is bad with weight, yet slimmer than pine!
On your shoulder, probably — so high!’
Bends with the breast,
With hand obscured —
The sun, must be,
The face did not burn.
‘I see, I see, and unaware:
Maiden — your friend is where?
Rope, you unwind!
Where is the youth? Where is the maiden?
That youth? — round in the face,
That youth? — little is the hand:
With one plait two braids, and
Two beautiful maidens.
But painful is their sight —
Come on for two guys?
There’s maiden? She looks across!
There’s maiden? Part the knees!
The joints of one hand,
Two beautiful young men.
So that would not spoil our wedding
Our Thomas’s disloyal reason.’
Where did not press the seal the tsar,
Thus us two need to decide:
Who is in skirt and with braids —
To her let — two young men.
Who is blowing around the skirts —
To him let — two girls.
And sharper we will see —
And all is the same deceit,
And the smoke the fog above,
Cherub — seraphim — above?
We sleep…
***
And strokes, and caresses,
The maiden’s debt pays.
Cheeks with eyelashes tickles.
Well, the blue eyes,
How do you swim on the sea!
And to see I don’t desire,
And to wake it’s a pity.
Above the ear halloos:
‘My groom! Au!’
Cradles upon his chest
The pray of his.
‘Sleep, my mop flaxen,
Dandelion on the stem!
Let my chest of steel
Be for you a cradle.
Of sleep I do not deprive you,
My diamond, my sapphire!
For I am big,
And you — are a kid!
What with silk — the cheek,
What with silk — the hand!
Not once in attack
Did I lead the regiment.
I won’t keep you from slumber,
My diamond, my sapphire!
Because I am big,
And you — are a kid!
***
What is your marvellous dream?
Let me sprinkle with water of the sea!
Hold tight, good friend!’
Holds water in his hand:
‘For the first time I will
Forgive your sleepy sin!
That mortal body stronger grows,
With the sea water foam —
On military exploits
The baby I baptize!
That he rose light, that he won’t sleep,
That he would with one speech,
With the baptism of the seas —
The baby I baptize!
That full regiment laid down the finger,
That Tsar-Maiden with the bent ring, and
First thunder crawling before him — thus
The baby I baptize!’
***
That the young cloud
Linen sprinkles:
The friend — dear
Splashing water, watering
And he sleeps.
On his face from wax —
Like silver oar,
Like silver tears —
On his face from wax —
On all sides — bands —
The luminous steams pour.
***
‘And won’t look! And I know — big-eyed!
Good for all, and going off much to bed!
And again with the eyes from the home!
Look — less than an inch to dawn!
Like the lambs’ — sheeps’ fur —
The whole sunrise in ruddy curls!’
***
Old man above him: ‘All gusli!
From them the sleep is deep!’
Beauty above him: ‘Where’s whiskers?
It is the year eighteenth!
Time to break through in the meadow
For the blade of grass!
Your dream I will forgive
For the first fluff!’
And, blushing more than helmets of theirs,
Kisses the forehead — between the eyebrows.
Eyelids fluttered,
Unclenched the hands.
Runs some shine
Along the face.
Rings — falling from the hands — gusli,
Girl over him:
‘Will I await your blue eyes?’
But — like steam —
From below -hollowed cheeks along
Cloud — darkness — fainting.
***
Stood the Tsar-Maiden, waited:
‘Oh you apple my whisper-raisin!..
And to reach you — wiser is God!’
From the temple curl she takes out
Handle of strings twisted and turned,
Handful of hair of gold.
‘Such a rune you haven’t seen!
Every hair — a golden string! —
You will give gusli-player on the string,
Let this name of mine louder ring!
On the market there are no such strings!
Stands the old snake in an army dress!
Hands on seams,
Worm of the earth!
You strongly listen
To my words!
That pain would let him be —
Give an apple to him to eat.
And he must drink not kvas but wine —
That will be our first command.
That he got drunk on sleepy plant —
Day after sea, gusli-player — in bed.
With radish from the flies defend —
That will be our second command.
That you would stand on the right foot,
That with cold water wash you would,
And — oars in hands! — in hour kind!
That will be our third command.
That he won’t turn the strings — commemoration,
That he would sail in first — an assignation.’
***
Stands the child over gingerbread,
Stands, does not bring together the eyes.
With curls over the face
A carved shadow he casts.
‘Farewell, my untrue one,
Till tomorrow, sweetness un-Russian!
The first time — spying,
The second time — biting!
I would have kissed you on forehead,
But I fear — without skill!
While he did not with caring
Stand — fun, farewell!’
A boot through the bead,
With light foot — jump ahead
To home, to red house.
On the space of the blue waves
The tsar’s boat is the sense!
The verst has lain
The sun and the moon between.
Flutters the equine sultan.
I swim. — I swim.
***
Not a splinter out of body —
From the cloth a sharp pin,
On the face of the snow
Are blue eyes, of blue sea,
On an elbow he stands,
With eyelashes beats.
He rubs, brows between:
‘For long I did sleep!
With thin silver threads
The rain poured on me.
The lark, vocal, sonorous,
Rejoiced around me.’
That the frolicking bird
Was rejoicing —
Thus your girlfriend
Had mercy.
She called, she called,
On the heat-chest she lulled,
Searched in the curls of the tiger,
On the face sprinkled water.
Raged over you — like in judgment day!
Thus the sleep had been — unawakening!
‘And I dream — she says,
As forehead she does caress —
That the sun of red
Did not go on the forehead.
Lying, not having veiled,
And did not come out flame!’ —
Oh, my crescent is white,
The pallid pie!
It’s not to bake your forehead
For the sun!
There’s pricey stamp of rare
Lips of the tsar. —
The Prince does not hear
The speech of the girls.
The sleepy depth he measures
With the eyes’ verst.
‘And I dream’ — he groans,
Smoothing like fleece the hair —
‘That in cupolas with rumbling
A hundred chains did tear.’
‘You would in poultices
Knock heels on the head!
This is the first gift
From bride — to friend!’
He takes golden hair
Into the white arm.
And arm has gone sleepy,
And arm is numb…
Hair asks not food or drink…
The hand he unfolds,
Hair after the hair
From his hand drops.
‘Eh you, curly rings
From the dissolute head!
At the lute of sea queens
They ring, made of gold!’
SECOND NIGHT
The Tsar pinches wet moustache, sitting under the ground,
‘What to drink?’ — he is looking around.
All has been drunk — drunk is half the kingdom!
But all is as if something is not completed.
Like, before the fearsome father, a queen,
Around him all the charms have gone in a ring.
There are the Turkish, there are the German,
The priests and the Venetian…
‘More quickly my sips,
He-hey, wither you will!
I drink won’t get drunk, pour without pity,
And all are trivial!’
Like a deary — before merchant dancing —
Around him are bottles in a ring.
And the loud-mouthed, the colorful, the red,
And the big-bodied, and the labelled!
Captured by grey mould in the summer,
Thus lies, king of woods — see — full of hair.
You need to find out what’s hidden in them,
What will overflow with color-rainbow!
***
Pour-pour, don’t begrudge!
Still pour over you will!
Sing as much as you like —
You won’t drink too much still!
Our full vine,
Vast are the cellars,
Our tried train,
There’s no count of barrels.
Just like boys before an old fighter —
A ring of barrels all around him.
With which ring?
With sheer wall!
With which wall —
War by war!
Splash — do not splash out!
Whip — do not whip out!
Look, Tsar-trickster,
How you’ll strengthen order of ours!
Between rivers of wine, barrels’ mounts
A fringed tent he spread out.
‘To people — a blue sea,
My sea — of wine.
On the shore people sleep,
And all night long row I!
Quiet is my sea,
And I row without relief.
And the other’s sea
Is to me — on the knee!
Their water is not sweet,
And mine — with a pad.
Arms and shoulders not sparing
We row endlessly.
We are rowers in our sea,
Swimmers in our sea are we.
To bottom hour will come —
In our sea I’ll drown!’
‘Really?’
‘Who will bury you?
Since you drink, unmarried,
And if wedded,
Guilty all around!
Who needs me — old,
Couple — a dime,
Who needs me — drunken,
Defrocked by wine?’
***
Sat, sat our Tsar — even tired!
With foot and hand his way he made.
Wants on the legs — ah no, he pulls below!
Hey, you small fry, keep clear of the road!
From the left foot he had tried —
Enemies again knocked him to the ground!
Went out — turkey cochin!
Cluing to the tent-baldachin!
Red bunting was not changed — from what hour!
The tent crumpled on head of the tsar!
How went the nonsense with dust of glass!
Bottle to bottle we went to toast!
***
Tent chokes the Tsar,
Wine drowns the Tsar,
Not puddles — rivers,
Not rivers — torrents.
All would be amazed
If he would freely rise!
With all its voices
Tsar’s tent howls.
Like devil swings with red,
Dances the Tsar’s tent.
Ah, maybe, in him is sleep whichever?
Ah, maybe, a dragon whichever?
Ah, maybe, the sleep whichever?
That in our minds we could not decide,
We’ll get through to the queen in half.
We’ll get through to the beauty,
It’s useless to argue with wine!
We’ll see how he labors,
With tear drenches,
How at night manages
Country — without a Tsar.
***
Before the lock we open,
Tell me, soul, for what reason
You to us: from the man’s,
Or a half from a woman?
If from man’s — drop the alert:
With crust we will appease nurses,
If from woman’s — keep to left,
The kind hour, through the roads!
Thus. — Then, friend, give hand.
I won’t touch with shoulder, don’t be afraid!
This — is science of a child,
In Chinese I am trained.
If the heart (chest is case!)
Clink with crystal on the walls —
No, friend! Sweeter it is
To smack girlfriend on the porch!
Do not lead, my friend, the singer
With the undercover trails!
We, like birds, are the singers:
Feather cannot recollect!
And, so as not to ne begrudging:
To you — smidgeon, to him — smidgeon…
To all on feather — Fire-Bird
Without a tail has remained!
Thus.
***
Unfasten my necklace —
Do not worry nurses!
Seven skies for The Pure Maiden,
For the Queen — seven reposes.
(Of you, the lad,
Like icicle — hand!)
Walls are in nets-snares,
In bells ringing out loud.
Hour of woman — the Tsar’s wreath:
Of locks, there’s not enough!
(And with me, comely lass,
Through the needle you will pass!)
Below — eyelashes, quickly — hands:
In one summer skirt that’s light
Thus the weavers of the lace
Make up rumours day and night.
(Only giving a glance,
We will weave without lace!)
Look: Under seven locks, in
Order to amuse the thief,
There seven packings of women
With seven deadly sins.
(Give the thread of the necklace —
I’ll manage without a lockpick!)
What is this ringing mosquito’s,
What is this ringing high-pitched?
Thus the combers with their combs
Upon the mosquito spit!
(Let there not be enough bold spots —
Without a hairbrush we will comb!)
In paws carrying wipers,
(With all eyes, boy, stare!)
There are seven queen’s swimmers,
There are seven devil’s Arabs.
(Maybe, seven sisters of mine:
You don’t rub me on the spine!)
In the kitchen of woman’s lying
Hurry, Samson and Delilah!
Here they make a blush from dawn,
Make the whiting out of snow…
(Without whiting, without blush
We’ll let fog into the eyes!)
Thus from kitchen into workshop:
Someone, taking hammer in hand,
Forges unions out of glass,
Forges farewell out of lead.
(I won’t say across —
What he’ll forge for you and us!)
Hand in hand the two brothers,
Not disturbing the flies,
Just like heat in hand — hand it is!
Behind are chambers, all six…
(Before the seventh, main one,
Press your lips to mine!)
Heart to heart, lips to lips…
To plunge into these rivers —
With you we’ll miss all the queens,
All the princes!
(Let go! Get away!
We started to say!)
Before her main
Entrance, her seventh rest before,
To you, dear friend,
I will tell this word:
(So that voice be fresh, better
Let me drink full of water!)
As you call again to yourself
Bird, analogous to me,
Know: only our bird feathers
The heart sultry and earthly.
(A sample rude and rough,
Of how many hearts.)
And, my friend, still remember:
My people have been lost twice!
Thus, as we sing so pretty,
Thus more dulcetly we kiss.
(Write in your chest.
One who spoke — forget.)
***
Sleep the mothers, sleep the nurses,
Not crumpled is the coat.
Just the lamps smoke in the corner.
And, thus is — her rest — the seventh rest!
And, thus is — her night rest!
Where is she? — She’s not.
Where is she? — With the wind.
Does not sleep — thus cries,
Thus to dear one jumps —
From mothers, from husband,
From the pearl vestments,
From buffoons’ faces
From our nauseous affairs!
Sneaked out from bedroom,
Got out on the stairs —
Foot after foot —
It is hard to exit there!
And there — freer, freer,
Feet are surer, surer,
As if from a coffin rising,
Through the air you are rushing:
Not the birds on the roof,
Not on the star above!
(Wind, wind, thief — luxury man,
To all beauties — assistant,
Of jealousy — servant,
Of loyalty — killer,
Unpaid worker —
My wind!)
Stands the prisoner
At the height of tower.
Little white one has contacted
That same boy who
The rough chain of ours
Before all took apart,
Who before our spouse
Dishevelled the necklace.
And as master he flirts!
He contends with the cats!
He tore her wrist,
He played with her earrings.
With his pearl
He calls — dear…
Yes, she needs another
Boy!
***
Steps!
Mother of God, help!
For what are these wonderful steps!
I light you a three pood candle,
From which what these know — the boots!
Not the moan —
Ringing of strings.
Not the dream —
He.
***
‘Why are you here?’
‘Why are you here?’
‘I suppose, I’ll leave.’
‘I myself will leave.’
The humble young man stands,
Pinches upon the strings.
Stepmother-beauty has no words,
She bites upon the tail of braids.
And between them the wind —
Like loach — them two in between.
Gusli-player: click on click on the strings
And the heart in her chest: sense to sense, —
Here he shatters into bits! And
Here he turns back the spine.
He’s about to leave! Holy Jesus!
And, with braid gushing out the lips,
Just like a beast, not man —
Enough! By shoulders the son!
‘Stand, wait, that you won’t leave!’
‘Throw, broad, what speech do you lead?
Do not crumple the cloth:
Are you with sailor the girl?’
And wants on shoulder to hang —
Cannot take apart her hands:
The gracious neck behind
Coiled — like a circle of iron.
‘I am your son, you are my mom.
To breathe the wind I have gone,
To listen to speech in Moscow…
And you — choke with the rope.’
‘You don’t age broads their time before!
I am the Queen, and you’re my Tsar!’
And between them the moon —
Like sword — the two between.
‘Three years with tomorrow’s dawn,
Just like a peach waxen,
Like beggar at a marketplace —
I yearn for your tender face!
Three years I waited for this night!’
Like two wings — light —
Weakened from torment
Her arms he drives apart.
Along the camp he puts with care,
He walks right to the stairs,
And to the guttural scream
He turns the head suddenly.
He stands on the tower prong,
Like witch in crown of the moon,
Over the ocean abyss
She stands, and her camp she swings.
She swings, she shakes,
Like cuddling a babe,
Large eyes without sight
She turns to tormenting one.
Like the sail unfold
The hot silks — and the wind.
‘To trouble you lead!
You’ll leave — I will leave:
You — from the staircase,
I — from the turrets!’
She swings, she swings,
Curls silk round the knees.
How is — the naughty kid
Would catch fear and tease.
‘Why did you reel? Ah — you fear?’
Prince steps up to her.
‘Now to me — not a step!’
Prince to her — two steps.
Swings: I’ll die for cent!
Swings: And you’ll be dead!
Swings: ah no, don’t touch!
No trace! — Worthless! — And such
As handful of pearly peas —
The convulsive laugh — from the nose!
‘Farewell, my righteous monk!’
More furious is spread-span,
‘My peach-apricot!’
Like snakes, whistle braids.
Thus came apart — ripples in eyes!
Thus came apart — the moon does atomize!
Here with a fearful visceral scream —
How shouts! This with ring of steel
Will squeeze — upon the flight!
Will stand upon the feet!
***
So then poured out a fright.
She is gentler than a child.
Stands, not pressing hands,
Loudly breathes and stands.
***
Here the tender speech poured:
‘I fear not from the tower…’
And — with nightingale trill —
Laughter light and playful.
‘Has been fulfilled mine — all pleasure!
Has been fulfilled mine — all passion!’
From the fringes curly
Stares the eye slyly.
‘You held me in your hands,
You pressed me to your breast…
Achieved — again does laugh —
Just like beats your heart!
You dug into me with iron,
Like a stripe of fire
Under the tongs of red —
To memory — trace of your hands!
The female wanting of mine —
Thus is the name of mine.
Go! — Again, my friend,
I won’t fall down with my head!’
***
Hoot! Who hooted all of a sudden?
Between teeth what cat’s head?
Of great parting you’re a prophet:
Crying owl, eagle-owl.
Makes self pretty, cleans the beak.
Yellow eyes — ball of amber!
Whispers to beauty as he clings:
‘I am second to you for pin!’
Beauty made the cross’s sign,
Like recognizing a dear guest.
‘I heard your whole battle argument,
Like an eagle owl I did fly.
Twice into chest — the pin send!
Twice to eagle owl — the lips present!’
Hand on the hand with the wings,
Lip on the lip with a beak
The pockmarked wrongdoer takes apart:
You do not resist, tight mouth!
Submission was born with the broad!
Cling, thin-stemmed vine!
So that won’t see yellow eyes —
The black eyes, be closed!
***
You close — and easier!
Half-anger, half-insult…
The wrongdoer you can hear —
And see not!
And easier the lips
Give back their heat.
The choristers, not wind
Evenly sing.
The different you whisper,
Guarding greedy mouth.
The chest — without order
Buries in feathers.
All lighter — all tighter —
And with you at once —
Not the old eagle-owl,
But the young swan!
***
Through the muslin haze is seen
Moon with invisible wind:
Witch with eagle-owl in pressing!
Witch with eagle-owl in embraces!
Crescent — the tear brushes off,
That — had shaken the birch….
And from lips — ditch taken twice —
What is your rusty trace?
God save the land of ours!
The bloody beak of eagle-owl!
The wind played with the waves,
The moon blocked off the face…
SECOND MEETING
Sun burst out into tower —
Just like golden regiment.
Stands the Prince, proper:
He is full of merriment!
Though he didn’t sleep, enough sleep he had!
At least once under garland!
Currant is red,
And I — am hotshot!
Three bulls upon a skewer
I’ll kill mercilessly!
We’ll look into a mirror,
What of himself is he!
White mill with a lacing,
And the sash of red.
What circle between eyebrows,
The purple cent?
Like snow with a puff
It went, the cheeks among.
What circle between eyebrows,
Honourable sign?
And shepherd at the midnight
Burns which bonfire?
And to think the thought —
Rubs upon the forehead?
***
With brave hands —
Along railing as it twists,
With quick steps
In the round staircase.
He forgot to icons
To make earthly bow,
Bowing, does not go
To the father and his wife.
Not guessing, that the guards
To him did crawl,
With the swan’s whiteness
He frightened all crows.
All beauty with kerchief
From the porch follows him.
And old women — to daughters:
‘Hotshot — kid!’
In dark window which night
Is darker than iris?
Who to the alert eyes
Two fists presses?
‘You want to leave in one piece
From the woman’s snare —
Do not pay by the scores,
With your conscience keep score.
He will say: Sail to sea!
Let curse the beauty!
Broads — are crappy people,
Slaves — are glorious people.
To leave in one piece, you want
From the snare of the broad —
Hold heart in the hand,
Give the boat full speed.
Look, as inside the waves
Our Prince is swimming,
Level with sea he swims,
Voice with the wind is singing.
You want to leave in one piece
From the woman’s snare —
You need to row fast,
Young sailor!
All is waiting for thee
And in wives and in sea:
Chest — like wave stands up,
Wave — like chest stands up.
Singer, into the shoulder!
Our chronicle: to linen…
But the Prince to the shuttle —
Swan clings to swan.
And again your free
Flight goes nowhere!
No one can leave
From the woman’s snare!’
***
Listened to voices the gusli-player,
Lightened up, leaning on elbow.
Like, under his hand, the strings —
In body went chatting the veins.
On gilded pillows he stands,
Throwing back forehead, chest ahead.
As he throws blue look — why? —
He sees: eagle-owl sits, eagle-eyed.
He came up, and covered with head:
‘Good night, mister cockswain!
I will do without your clear eyes!’
And to slave from the floor: Thus the goose!
Goose you, goose you mine, turkey foreign!
How will be pulled out — once — from the hands!
Gusli-player did not wake, as between
Uncle’s baldness — and two boots for him!
‘What is parable? Went mad, mushroom old!’
‘Hurt the hands-arms, the ribs-bones!’
‘Without my order — how did you dare?’
‘Like my swan — does not wave afar!
Is there not enough bait in the sea?
Who will respond? — The hajduk of thee.
The prince here shouted — there’s no strength!
In his lips he bit the necklace.
‘How I see you — knife into side!
As if a black cat before me crosses the road!
That you drink-not-eat, that you would dry up!’
Thus he hits with a gusli on hearts!
***
Now speaks the Tsar-Maiden
To two youngsters-their-puppies,
To sailors-seafarers:
‘Oh you, wonder-sailors,
My two nimble oars,
Give to my young hand!
All night long we were playing cards,
With a card beat out slumber —
To watch over my friend.
Throw the deck of cards,
Dive into the depth-abyss,
Ask around the beasts-fish:
For fish not to listen to ringing,
For beasts not to listen to voices,
Does not swim the young gusli player?’
At once hotshots had arisen,
The broad-shouldered camp they straightened,
And they made the honest sign —
Just like a pearly whirling
On the water — and Maiden’s chest
Has all come with diamonds.
***
‘Mother gave birth — did not grieve:
A smoke, not a child!
Just like one poured veins to me
With the moon’s sheer light.
Too lazy to peel the seeds!
No time for the fleshly sin!
You find a bride to me
For such a fiancИe!
Not a groom, a shaky stem!
I shake with dew who will come.
In the rain, I go without hat,
In the snow, I go barefoot.
More defenceless than old broad,
Greener than a rod…
You find for me a girlfriend
For such a man!
By the seaside red groves,
Sharpening the light skies,
Took pity on thin brother
My mighty sister.
Dawn has burned me a red circle,
Circle, that blazes above.
There are to my chambers — stones,
There’s to fiancИe the bride!’
Like an apple eating
You listened to the song.
Like a beer drinking,
Absorbed ringing of strings.
And here — with a water fight —
Swimmers with double pole to light:
Like lions with a mane,
Two red heads.
‘Whispered with beasts-fish,’
At once they jump on ship,
‘For your pain
I hear nothing.
There’s no Prince!’
‘Know, thin is my maiden’s hearing’ —
She with a grin,
To two seafarers.
‘Such is my hearing of a thief,
That even noise of sea grass
Upon the scaly tail of fish
Not like a friend — I sense!
Up, sails! Dance, abyss!
Not Tsar to you, as in this hour
We do not get off the boats
Not Maiden and not Tsar!’
***
Oh you freedom! — dear! — of the ship!
The ocean road of the crib!
***
Swims Tsar-My-Swan
In rings, in garlands
Caftan — not more white,
Sash — not more scarlet…
Like horseshoe, earring
From the ear hangs…
(I will be singing
To such a live friend!)
Oh, his blue glance!
His mouth of scarlet!
‘Look, the abyss
Started misconduct!’
On eve of epiphany,
Are you born, lad?
By broads in the village,
What, to lie you’ve learned?
‘Well no, antiquity!
Some dark, exactly.
Look — not the wave:
The troika with mane!’
‘Lie, village fool you,
Different fish!
Yes, better with comb
The stack I will brush!’
‘You lie, old owl,
Underground mine!
Where the Tsar-Sail
Stands on ocean?’
‘You don’t see with your eyes, —
On the beans guess!
Am I the boss
On fearsome waves?’
***
Eyes open wider
The snake stabs…
‘Sleep, light, sleep, falcon!’
The arms like dumbbells,
The legs like dumbbells,
Forehead poured with lead…
Not to drink in tavern
Tea with the hotshot!
But he argues, but all his might he gathers,
But with fingers his temples he does tear…
Will swing — will awaken: ‘Unbearably I sleep!’
Which, which here is the lover’s twist!
The sunburn red,
The forehead tagged.
‘Uncle, fire!’
Closes the eye.
Unclenched the hand,
With earring rang.
‘Uncle, fire!’
Closes another.
Thus sleeps with the final shout,
With the half-open mouth.
***
All caftan-his-lacing
He unbuttoned on the chest.
Sleepy head he is holding
With half a breath on the chest.
Breathes? — No?
Breathes? — Yes?
She tilted the metal leaf
Over her steel chest:
Is there or is there not trace of breath?
Yes, breathed is the circle!
Yes!
Joy — with lightning
In eyes — with gold!
Joy — with lightning!
With hammer — woe!
‘And if he is alive —
Wherefore does he lie?
And if he breathes —
What is it that he hears?’
With wind God writes on the seas!
The strong brows pinching,
His slight — like beak of an eagle —
Pierces into the sleeping one.
All from memory — alphabet book!
The Tsar-Maiden is confused,
What to say, does not know.
Into the straight as board chest,
She has squeezed in two fists:
The turmoil pacifies.
Oh you lazy, lazy man!
Probably, from the cannon,
Will not shudder — fireworks!
As if with leaves
Shakes the oak.
Laugh — from daring lips
Like a chained dog.
‘Waa, waa, baby!’
He laughs, with hands on hips.
All — like swept with a broom!
All — like with water poured!
Look: now — chest will pop!
Will sink all the ships!
— And —
Quietly, quietly,
As through thickness
Of stony tree bark,
From her open eyes —
Huge, amber tears,
Unpaired.
It was not, that with resin
Wept the oak!
Thus, tear after tear,
Three roads of gold
From wide eyes’ source
To lips of mouth.
Long eyelashes don’t tremble,
Face is motionless.
Like is pressed on the forehead
The orange peach.
Orange, apricot,
Pour, splendid juice of soul,
Pour, the cheeks past —
Juice precious, amber,
Gift of soul that’s severe,
Pour into sand!
And his special caftan
Voiceless face — with red blood
Resin, drop!
With blood on the dumb iceberg…
Melt with tear, proud one,
Stone-rock!
***
And under the steel sheets
Shameless argument begins:
Why did you not cry over the horse,
But over the boy weep?
Was heat-whirlwind-thunder-hail, —
For all punished!
Won’t take troops in jail —
Tied with a blade!
Into prison took the army,
She puts the ship upside down,
And into swamp wandered —
Inaccessible!
With a fist glorious, swarthy,
Wipes the face of circle —
Leads to beauty.
Threw the face bottom up,
That with its fire the sun
Burns all — calumny.
‘Order His Highness:
That for third time and last
With the dawn in the sea
We will come to gusli call.
Gusli-player, farewell!
For three times our law is to forgive.’
With strength of women’s lips
Lips seared. (From necklace beads
On armour — double trace.)
From sweetness she fell off on time,
And — with boot over the side —
Home into her sea house.
***
The steel-snake tears at the knob,
And shuddered the kissed mouth:
Not a sigh, not a yawn,
And maybe she calls someone or other…
Until then open the lips before eyes of blue:
Eh, beauty, what to wait for you!
And does not hear complaints the wind:
I would have kissed and kissed!
Because for broads in the lover’s hour
Is hot-scarlet mouth — than eyes more dear,
All of us are jealous of fruits of Eden,
And especially — the arrogant women!
***
He trembles, he stretches,
With ring the lips touches…
In vain! Won’t look back!
Yours for hundred versts — date!
And uncle whispers, like goat does he dance:
‘It must be that she has gone on all sails!
On the mouth not to kiss…
Give me the collar of yours.’
***
Bluer than cornflowers,
Bluer than cannabis
On sleepy cheeks
Bloomed the eyes.
‘Hey, listen, old one:
Sleep arrived on time,
Like at a cuckoo bird
I took aim!
May he not long in vain!
He closed his eye…
And I hear — cuckooing:
For three times.’
Not the little cuckoo bird
Cuckooed,
Thus your girlfriend
Had longed.
Like in nightly storm the ropes moan…
Master, for you to sleep causes us pain! —
‘And I’m also seeing,’
He says not his own,
‘That weeps with resin
The youthful oak.
With branches embraced
The my-mill-chest,
And drips, and drips
On the caftan with tears.’
‘No, the Tsar Swan,
Not an oak, not a resin:
Thus pride-her-floe
With a tear is gone.’
‘And I dream,’ she says,
(Upon the lips rubbing),
‘That the red sun is
To me — apple in mouth.
And now, with a bow:
Try, lazy one!’
‘Before sleep read up
On King Solomon.’
Thus with foggy sigh:
‘Let me tell you the dream!
I lie, nailed down,
On the ring with no name.
Ah to death? Ah to wedding?
Say, not tax collector!’
‘Ah to be sleeping and sleeping
For you, dear sir!
From the broad Joseph
Naked — beware!
Not one is handing
On the woman’s hair! —
The bad divination the Prince does not heed,
He himself kisses his tender hand.
‘Divine on cards if you want,
Or if you want — on beads!
You want like a raven to caw —
All sweetness on lips!’
You strum, give us feast-ringing, gusli-player,
The blueness — making the water bluer!
To use you, Tsar-Maiden, be well!
The boy’s mouth — rose of purple!
THIRD NIGHT
Be joyful, our loyal people!
I am your white-maned king, white-bearded.
Calico nose, circular tray,
Devil himself gave me a cup today!
Be joyful, our free hands!
All your spring breads I drank away!
We will eat oats since there’s no bread:
We will be sated — and
Face into dung. Drink till bottom, black brows!
I’ve drunk away all of your cows!
And since you’re tired of childish tears —
Pray, that the devil soon will them bear!
Lift up, priests-deacons, cassocks!
Or while dancing noses on the floor you’ll crack!
How the red tail, and the great fast —
Better suction from a cup!
Rise, thieves-kites-mutineers!
I supply the deadwood for the fire.
Doors — ajar — all. Dog is locked in cage!
I bear palisades by the keg!
Crumble-crumble, our kingdom collapsed!
The red rooster over our unsalted shchi!
The red rooster: ‘The king’s nose
Cracked his name just as is!’
Hey, serfs, take gusli-player by sides!
That there be Kamarin dance!
***
Not the smoke-fog, Turkish smoking —
Thus is vision of Prince before the King.
Not the birds behind the net of jail —
Thus are his eyelashes, low and humble.
Oh, eyelashes, two half-horseshoes in snow!
Pink is your mouth, linen-poppy-dome!
Coughing in his fist for decency:
‘What song can I serve Your Majesty?’
Bird in the sky — was not born higher!
Above you does not rule the order!
***
‘Often I heard through the dream
Whisper of the broads:
`The bad son to earthly king,’ —
Know, to the Sky good!
With wild lope, with black word
I was not for feast the sinner.
Upon my tall porch
Give step to Gusli-player!
Never, having come between,
Did he drop on supine young women,
And not that there with one foreign —
He did not sleep with the women!
He did not dance in shameful dress,
How in night they’ll hit later.
Wide is your house —
Give place to Gusli-player!
Although I have been a bad heir —
Dashing is Gusli-player!
From out the final ones is lad —
Maybe, the angel is not bad…
Though in prayer I’m not studied —
I’ll overtake — as if I’d died!
Between your laudatory lips
To Gusli-player give a place!’
***
Tsar took the splinter: ‘Bend, my friend!’
(Barely he set the mop aflame!)
‘You drink water and eat the lean?
Why so far you I have not seen?’
Son with the dad, doe with red lion?
Pharynx-larynx have been drying!
Flared up stronger kinglets-beads:
‘I will bring son to you, dad!’
How rashly will push him Tsar:
‘You lie, young noodles! Tower!
Foreign prince like a monk that has gone —
I am not guilty of any sons!’
The Prince marvelled with brows:
‘Though you kill me, in vain do not fear!
Not a foreign man, not a monk —
I’m used to legal wedlock!’
Tsar reminded of ten clowns:
‘You know, skewer gave birth to a half-damask!
But important is a detail another:
If the son, when my wife is your mother?!’
If wife, that means — daughter, so — son in law?
Where is my killer — the mother of yours?!’
Gusli-player with finger in earth: ‘Home for all time!
In second marriage you will reside.’
Once hop from this tale has vanished,
Goggled, like goggle-eyed catfish,
There is no sigh — like a ball it will pop.
‘Thus we live in second wedlock!’
Son shudders, whispers,
With wine wets the temples,
Bustles around that mountain:
Face — round of wax, than bedbug redder.
‘Thus I have left without priest, fathers!’
Behind — the wine, pours wine into mouth,
Like a log falls to the chest.
‘I know one thing: That you breathe.
But you cannot hear your heart!’
‘Though you don’t want wine into your mouth —
Will take gusly in the hands,
Maybe, my Tsar-Father,
My remedy will help!’
On the strings with wind he did run,
He hears: somehow it’s even — click! — with tongue.
He buzzed, like bumblebee-bee,
Hill-the-mountain has gone up, he sees!
And like boys he let in all their speed,
He sees: Tsar sits, and with hand: Drink!
***
Son poured for his dad,
Tsar drinks, places,
With every cup
The son he praises:
‘And curls with — the hat!
Mill — slimmer than a shotglass!
So without broads —
To sons to give birth!
What for — wife?
Why — wife?
You are not wife,
Say — war!
What here’s not right —
For her dark is light,
And foe and friend,
And tsar — weak mind…
Oh you, Tsar-idiot, married bachelor!
Bring to me wife, dear son:
I won’t beat, but I will push once!
***
Not sleep-fog, nightly dream —
Thus the Tsar’s by Tsar is seen.
Not the black smoke over hot pan —
From her lips — unequal breath.
Not the black braids, meek servants:
Two scattered snakes with braids!
To bloody ground she bent earnestly,
The boots of the tsar with necklaces ring.
‘Grape in juice,
Grain, hello!
Not in century I have seen
More elegant throat!
All from heels to the beads —
Thus — you like!
And you will suffocate
If I will not choke!
Since my taste is vile, wet mustache!’
***
Here she was tearing the braids,
In the middle crawled away the snake,
Blushed with wines-there-barrels,
To tsar — into ground, bows in the belt the Gusli player.
Gentle legs, and the red mouth is pressed.
In the whole body — just the nostrils shake.
***
The Gusli player lightly played his songs,
Just like the drops on windowsill make noise.
There — ripples are curling,
He shakes the shoulders.
Here work the strings-servants,
Just like peas-dropping-pearls.
There — pond-river,
Makes the sides shiver.
The hands in a strange dance were coming,
Oars with the claws, like cat in satin.
Will compress, with unclench,
Will gather in handful again.
Let go his hobbled horses the Gusli-player —
Like wave to the fast feet swept the tremor.
Like tiger-bum
He readies the jump.
Oh, ripples!
Oh, swell!
Oh, heat!
Oh, cold!
Oh, I went dancing, forgive us God, young and old!
With side, with side,
With slinking, with slinking,
Playful and sneaky —
Like cat with a mouse!
(Oh, they don’t dance, wife, before your spouse!)
‘Throw off the boots!
Dance barefoor!’
Hey, stomp, barefoot one!
Hey, jump, barefoot one!
Snow is not more white
Than our bare feet!
(Why did you flush, as if burned by frost?)
‘Let me not save the soul, —
The braid unravel!’
How will shake!
How will wave!
Thus with the dark —
With heat — will croak!
White kerchief on the chest he tears open!
The flesh of the broad — hey —
Like apple-May?
The broad’s bosom —
Oh the Lord’s heaven?
Your breath, air that is hot,
Ginger-saffron-cinnamon-root.
Tsar has fun — the Indus wipes!
The white snow — son, tearing into earth with his eyes!
Why then you, strings, did not become a force?
Not the snake’s bite — the torn silk’s creak,
Not the whip — the whistling of torn silks,
Thus on all dance — silks with the hands beneath!
‘Hey, give the heat!
Throw off the shirt!’
Give father and sun a grand feast!
I got lazy — does not hear the monist.
From left shoulder, shoulder strap beneath.
He rubs the eyelashes with sleepy arm,
To the right shoulder now — it is time.
Became dreamy, there’s a flour bag,
Cloth at the thighs she picked up with her hand.
And did not yawn on time, dross!
Baptized the mouth — let go the cloth.
And — vaulted like the whole Sodom —
She twirled like pillar of smoke!
***
Night — as if black,
Blood as if red,
Agreeing to all
Nonsensical broad —
Maybe to go, us two,
Upon one street,
Maybe with one roll
Two to feed.
Are you friends with comrade,
As son with his dad,
Share a cup —
And all in the end!
The defect enter,
From piety sin!
In godly way share —
And drunk is everyone.
In the world monasticism —
Like earth to eat!
But here, our broad’s
Profit — is to be quiet.
To poles with lining
No one is bad!
Grip with dead grip,
And there — like God!
***
From the meadow moon
Went behind the hay stacks.
Tsar looks at the son,
At the wife he looks.
Than crossbow truer
Drunken eye has taken aim.
‘The feet you don’t spare,
You don’t spare the hands,
Behind the mug therefore
I judge faithfully,
Decided that together
I will reward thee.
You love — the whales
Have a whisper since when,
That to me and Nicola
Was ready grandson!
And that your grandson
Was raised from me!
The Tsar grabs a cask saying:
‘Pour to you holy!
In carpets-your-bedding
Order to pour wine!’
Sticks instead of candles
The bottle with rings.
‘That in games-undertakings
The birds had spawned,
That to you the Venetian
Two cups — in crowns!’
Bottoms up, crazy!
The double fountain:
On body directly,
To him on the caftan.
He sits, up drawing,
Between strings and jets,
And suddenly singing:
Isaiah, rejoice!
***
Eh, Isaiah, Isaiah,
From the sky hang your head!
Look at the bride: she’s barefoot,
Still worse — she’s nude!
Like with full enemy camp —
Kisses on mouth.
Along the whole body — with grape
Splashed in blood.
And, closing black eyes!
Humble, good!
On the midnight
Fliers — do they wed?
How he’ll go in bed to play
With pins and needles!
No, Isaiah-bringer of joy,
Lost is your cause!
Look: Tsar with forehead did clink
For dealer joyous!
‘So that on lips — not on the cheek
To kiss, pigeons!
Not pockmarked, not cross-eyed,
Dress — smoother than silk!’
Oh, Isaiah our prophet,
The lad goes back!
‘Though kiss your wife you will not,
I’ll twist with her rope!’
(Oh, our fellow will give in!
Hemp — the agile broad!)
He should be, prophet Isaiah,
Behind doors of pig iron!
He forced himself from her
With fence of string!
Tsar takes gusli from hands!
Hold tight, geese-swans!
‘Kiss on candy lip, —
Not gusli to smithereens!’
Not the girl in claws of black sickness —
The torture chamber of women’s lips for the Prince.
Stretches himself, trembles,
Touches the lips with lips,
Like pierces into him the sting,
Like an apple bites into him,
From the heat pours out all the sap,
Pulls into the depth.
‘Study, study, lover,
How without me you will drink tea!
Study, study, my sickly one,
How to disdain our tenderness!
Study, study, my monk,
How to live in argument — and with stepmother!’
Covers, wraps,
Into poor chest — digs the nails,
Like woodbine wraps around,
Tips back like rainbow!
Squirrels are — the gums under!
And the floor is swept — with braids of hair!
***
Young and old — do not judge!
This heat — from the chest
Has to cut across into breast,
And all of our essence to cinge.
For the gypsy — the moon,
For the ruffian — the war,
For the noblemen — honor,
For us — blood as one.
Blood, which like a wolf howls,
Blood — a dragon fierce,
Blood, that milk with blood
Kisses the blood — by force!
MEETING THIRD AND LAST
Sun burst into tower —
What golden sword!
Lies light-our-teatotaller,
Like one inebriated.
Now at glow of evening —
He has a glance.
Hit by the evening —
He still lies.
The ear bends and listens:
Now from what time —
Equally noise-whispering,
Argument of maidens.
Like the streams two
Through snow make noise…
Only whispers two —
And there’s no sense.
He has two whispers
Without all words,
And for you two hairs
And with two eyes.
(The inseparable foes
In single pot!)
With a single cloth
They came to chest.
One — as if pluck out eye,
Gaze of veils — there.
Up to the ankle — one,
There — the whole finger.
On the sown caftan
With war they sound.
That — with the snake’s sting,
And that — with string.
From them with rustle-noise
The forehead aches!
‘Brief is your business!’
And great is sense!
Haircut-squirt-shaving!
I’m friends with lightning!
‘From tail-brush-knowing!’
Above I’m keeping.
‘I from a brushed head!’
‘And I from one honest!’
‘My broad — with braids!’
‘Mine — with pulchritude!’
There was the decent argument:
Curled in a clod!
Only he hears: Nearby —
Another sound.
Not of the sea, not of gusli:
The hum of bees.
Nearby-nearby, almost at
The very lips.
No, not the bees on roses
Keep the patrol.
In the saliva — argument
With fearsome seal.
‘Whose are you, unmixed honey?’
‘Forgot the burn?’
‘Give grinning!’
‘For once breathe in!’
‘Remember midnight hour!’
‘The midday heat!’
‘I flow with each saliva!’
‘That sign — is gift!’
‘Open the halves!’
‘Whisper in sleep!’
‘All of my — bloodlines!’
‘All songs — to me!
They’ll tear into two parts,
(Heat in the mouth!)
Different lips — two prints
On the same mouth.’
‘Mine is, the unmixed honey!’
‘Friend, you play games!
Whistles sinful saliva,
The burn does blaze.’
‘What with the lips?’
(Gusli-player in dead-end.)
‘Without memory I want to drink, —
And boils the chest!’
Licking with the tongue:
From lips — the smoke,
Only what is nearby —
Again the noise:
Like from the candle the wax gives
At night in church. —
The candlestick noise,
The Lenten speech.
To him — two wax drops
And God’s honeycomb,
And to you, then, two tears —
From different waters.
She from the Black Sea,
The sharks’ place,
She from the loyal sea —
The pearly splash.
Firstborns of two sadnesses:
Return! Return!
Two rival tears
Poured into one.
***
With hot hands
Along spiral railings,
With steps insane
On steep staircase.
What scallywag here!
Hey-hey hero!
With one stroke — forty stairs
He jumped over.
Hillock is tussock for him,
Who is fearsome to him?
Sea just like streams
He took, as if finely.
Oh, burn, to know, fierce!
Not simple honey, know!
Look, the vortex
Will tear off the floor!
On stones-prickles
Scalds-fries — and theirs, and?
And to witch’s grandchildren:
‘The groom has gone mad!’
Only — heavenly king! —
From the darkness of prison
What the cross’s sign —
Wonderful — after him?
‘For starvation-poison,
For shame-on-harm,
From the left — to the right, and
From below — above…’
Not the eyes under eyebrow:
Black deeds!
Needle of jealousy
Will not get full of blood!
***
Oh you freedom! — dear! — of the ship!
The ocean road — of the crib!
***
‘Don’t sleep, be strong!
Look at the birds:
We’ll sleep — below,
You’ll sleep — below….
Not the same blueness
Among eyelashes
Will go —
Sea blueness will go!
Sea strength,
Sea salt,
Will rise into my chest, —
And you will be
Not Tsar’s son:
King of sea.
Amen.
Don’t sleep — shake up!
Learn from the birds!
Realize our squeak,
Realize our whistle!
Wont’ ring the monist
The snake’s tongue!
Hold tight!
Out of line with snake
Don’t stand at night!
Sown with silk, sewn up with snake
Is your collar!
Be strong, don’t sleep!
Shake it up!
Buck up our whistle!’
***
And echoed this song the wind
With the wide whistle of the coachman.
Then the sea began to speak
With luxurious voice of the sea:
Trist in the sea! It will not lie!
Sail, the ship — the ship!
I’m nurse — better than nurses all,
A crib to all the cribs.
Soon you with the fist —
You will with your hand tear the string.
Falling at my wealthy chest,
Be strong, my sea fosterling!
Put instead of pillows
My wide-ranging dawn!
To you in toys-rattles I’ll be giving
The very sun!
Let there be no edge and no end
To the dominion free…
Drink, son two-week-old,
Drink the drinker of sea.
Drink, drink it, try it!
Warm the thin womb.
Come, come to me to study —
To my chest of foam!
***
Wave sways the canoe,
Womb is dried by heat.
To listen is one
Thing, another to hear.
Who wants to live —
Not a pilgrim to relics,
Who wants to drink —
Just a glass he remembers.
Oh, my full glass,
The blue waves!
Oh, my precious honey
Too foamy!
You’ll drink — you will
Say nothing — honey vaunted!
Oh, your evening
All salted!
***
Blood in the veins
Or wave on the canoe,
How formed the song —
Why for us to know?
Upon his hunting sport —
Barrel at temple!
Upon his work —
Yearning deadly!
***
Like with a belt girdle chest is pressed.
To unfasten the collar I raised hand,
From head to heel — how he’ll start!
And how he’ll jerk the hand behind!
And still on you, imbecile,
Spider, the trifle, sits.
Circles with neck, and red in the face!
And the spider arrives on the chest.
‘Do not press me, God does not desire.
I’m a sand-viper, not a simple spider!’
And thinly, like with mosquito’s string
‘I’m not simple spider — one of prison!’
Now there was fear-and-disarray!
Like with spasm brought together the man.
Thus the rubbish with click into water!
And was ended and thus with the spider:
Sun shines, wind, then, is fresh…
Only knew — what is the uncle’s bald patch!
‘That you’d pop with fly’s blood!’
And the old man to him: ‘Swim, help you God!’
‘That will take with the fire — fly’s blood!’
And the old man to him: ‘Advice and love!’
‘That upon your coffin there be no boards!’
And the old man is quiet — has no words.
***
Not the Light-Egory
Argues with the Soviet,
In middle of ocean
Is Tsar-Maiden with wind.
Speaks, like with an equal,
(Wise, though a fidget!)
The lover’s quarrel,
A friendly chat.
‘Wind-wind, a deserter,
Carrier, translator,
Of our women’s deeds informer,
Word peddler, thoughts’ prover…
Not to waste the words,
Casually! Together!
If there is, iris,
My brother between the tsars,
Between the maidens — my sister?’
He speaks — like he jokes.
He twists the curls:
‘Not in the whole world
There is such hefty one!
You — our color for the war!
I — am your loyal one!’
Trying the outbreath,
From the cup she drank.
‘Thus — healthier!
But, of all most fair?’
He speaks — like he cuts.
Then the deacon trumpets:
‘Not in the whole world
There’s such one forthright!
You — our battle color!
I’m — your one unaltered!’
‘Eh, leisurely babbler,
Say, do not pity:
But, worse — maybe —
You know — more dear?’
He speaks — like he queries.
Runner his message carries:
‘Not in the whole world
There’s such one forthright!
You — our battle color!
I’m — your one unaltered!’
‘What is he, my swan…
(He speaks — like he rants)
You hide your blue sight?’
He speaks — like he cries…
‘Will besmirch the hands
You with a deed of broads!’
‘There will be grandsons,
You will be — granddad!’
Quietly on her hands
Noise-puts-wing:
‘My advice, that them
There will not be!
You boil — won’t finish!
From the board — to chickens!
Comrade, provide
This deed to idiots.
Chickens in our nest —
Boys won’t be appeased!
Better yet instead
After ships to chase!’
Idiot made noise:
The maiden he threatens!
Brother-in-law, father-in-law,
Son-in-law, are the relatives…
Steppe men, ignoramuses,
Cotton wool caftan!
In between the wings
Figure-took-her-chest.
‘There’s not on whole market
Pricier than the fiancee!
From my duvet
You won’t go with belly!
Two wings have I here:
One I will shoot,
And another I’ll cover
And I will bless it.’
And over self, like that,
He whispers over soul:
‘Maidens I don’t want,
You’re my older bro!’
‘Not in the whole world
There’s such one forthright!
You — our battle color!
I’m — your one unaltered!
On hands, then?’ He hears:
Tear — knocking — on steel.
‘Of one thing — he breathes —
Sorrow-did-pity-tackle.
Better (he nearer to her)
Has dimmed the light!
‘Thus I won’t see
Her blue eyes!’
Roared with vexation!
At once took away wings!
And in any town
In hundreds — such eyes!
Crappy passion of broad
I know — in the fist!
What, not on riverside —
I myself will bring!
I’m not man, I’m not beast, and
I’m not legal peasant!
Well, how on the feathers
I will drop the tear —
Grab by the mane —
Brother Istambul-Tsargrad!
Girls’-one’s-lion’s
Taking do demonstrate!
I’m inveterate peasant,
We’ll live without angst!
The wings — meet us,
Meet us — the hands…
‘Than all laws tighter
Is the wind’s law.’
‘Light-Archangel!’ — he whispers. —
‘His ringing, no how?’
***
‘The evil weed grass
Do not mow, mower, from shoulder!
Not to plow, not to harrow,
My youth has gone past:
You had rested all my sadness,
Did not fold even the stove.
Who had never built the house —
The earth he did not deserve.
For the grave-coffin,
From six boards of pine
With not even one
The boards did I cut.
Only knew, that on the featherbed
I enchanted with string sound.
Who did not take sorrows of earth —
The earth he did not deserve.
On the featherbed, on the straw,
Is sea middle without oar —
I did not respect, except
The string handicraft.
And, with this name
I trembled more than bread…
Who is arrogant to fruits of earth —
The earth he did not deserve!
***
With the broken tongue
In chest — barely heard tune.
She to wind: ‘You hear?’
‘I hear nothing here!’
Without rage she said in turn,
Evil taking her.
‘Step back there, wind,
The torn wing!
From your liberty
Payments do not make!
Way to you — to East,
But for me — to sunset!’
Not eagle with she-eagle
In argument-entered-grip:
The maiden’s fiancИe brother
Tears apart the wings.
***
In vale — the sun,
In mountains — moon,
From mountain to mountain — the canoe.
Boy, at home, you should be staying,
Should be picking berries….
The leg in a Kazan boot
He put on the board.
The ocean road
He measures with sight of the sword.
Not the sword with the sword,
Not the blade with the blade —
Thus the luminous sight
With the glowing ray —
Sovereign sight with sovereign ray
In sovereign duel grappled away.
Under foot abyss-quicksand
Leads a folly full of danger.
Blue look, measure yourself
With the red saber!
Prove: You are no nasty coward,
Not a snot in gown dressed!
With the very evening host,
You played soldiers, is said.
Once the smoke-incense
Rises over the water,
Thus to soldiers
Gives review the gusli-player.
On the hungry peasant host —
With gold cloud of the Lord.
‘Come out — the Tatar khan —
I will take you on!
Take me into the kingdom,
The wide-winged host!
I am tired midst the nurses
Flower-garden to attack!
I am to you not almonds,
Not molasses, not a cake!’
Not two wings
In a golden bonfire,
Thus our Prince
Stretched out two arms,
At once he raised two hands
In golden dawn of God!
(Do not brag of your girth,
Mother See’s chest!
Seven hills — is Moscow,
Thousand hills — abyss!
Dignify us, homespun people,
By name and patronymic!
On each marine hill —
Our Highness is here!)
Not simply — horse
In fire of the war.
Without horseshoe-stirrups
Sharp-breasted horse —
On the forbidden sea groves,
With white horseman, looking above.
And to meet — from the palace —
Whom did they in armour bind?
Not to him to give the host’s
Way — on the two sides?
To gusli-player are stretched two hands,
Behind the shoulders-open spaces
Has gone apart with two wings
The host golden-feathered…
Thus honest sword
Holds speech to sword, thus
The pin-dream
Midst weak shoulders,
The guard of two jealous hands
With woman’s jealousy hit in nape.
***
She-eagle — over her eagle baby,
Over the Prince — the Tsar-Maiden.
‘God in hell and in heaven,
Corpse in coffin, in field raven,
Whisperers, flyers, triflers,
Autumn swirl and wind of noontide,
All the bandits went to bush,
Tatar Khan, Sultan Turkish,
Strength — power — thrones — glory
The flock feathered and flock scratchy,
Wind — water — fire — earth,
My sleeping blood is this!
To Tsar I won’t give,
To fire I won’t give,
To water I won’t give,
To Earth I won’t give.
The child, sleeping here,
My — in grove and in sea,
In silk — under matting —
My — lying and standing,
And in the wolf’s cave,
And on road that is late,
Mine — mounted and pedestrian,
Mine — sleeping and singing.
The child, sleeping so,
Mine — in joy and in woe,
Mine — in strength and in sickness,
Mine — in quarrel and in dance,
And in the tsar’s palace,
And in the tsar’s jailhouse,
In silk — on the hay — mine
In thunder and coffin!
In fire and disease,
In plague and leprosy,
Mine — in damage and evil eye, mine —
In foam and in writhing,
In sin and in chase,
Mine — in the khan’s jail,
Mine — he’s here now
And will be — how:
There’s guard — in heaven,
Not ours — in hell,
The earth — beneath us,
Above — the fate.
***
What has suddenly with steel ray
Dissected the evening ray?
With her sword the Tsar-Maiden
Bows, with loyal saber.
Leaning to the flaxen head,
Eyelashes-caresses-arrows:
‘I’m guilty, guilty, myself —
Pride has overpowered!
Such a figure have you seen,
That the child would not sleep?
And to me your sight and sleeping,
Than all heavenly kingdom — sweeter!
One sleeps — drunk is other, one sleeps — full is other.
Yes, the fragrant flower!
There’s Fat Tsar, there is Thin Tsar,
You will be my sleepy Tsar!
Something’s not right — and yard to pass,
And to the friend ordered the house…
And like a customized one is good,
And not ordered by God!’
With the great tenderness
The cord-braid he does smoothe,
The sun-Front-bends
On the white end.
And suddenly — be happy, fellow,
That your sleep is unfeigned!
And the white field across
Black hair! She is lost!
***
Across all sky — sideways
The red letters.
The first indistinct hit
Of far-off thunder.
Maiden does not cross her forehead,
Tore off the edge of the sail,
With the sword’s steel into steel
Signs-embeds-message.
Finishing, on sharp edge
Message-planted-rage.
At once through the knee
Sword-breaks-steel.
In right one — how to strike the chest,
In the other — where to catch the hand.
Bending the figure, to feet
She puts both ends.
Not bending the knees,
With honest Russian cross
Forehead-to him-chest-shoulders
For nightly dream crosses.
Prophet chases the horses.
With manes has gone the mud.
The whip shot up stronger
In the prophet’s hands.
Rose with a lightning,
Chest-broke-steel.
With the right hand on the chest,
With left one — there is heart!
Stroke — and splash in response.
Red is the linen of shirt,
Like bloody — mud…
The circles are covered by wind.
Oh, not tornado, not wind!
Into sky crawls the mud!
Do not beat with the whip —
The reins are torn up!
***
The bugler did not trumpet fit —
The fist’s whistle!
Not in storm waving the whip —
The return whistle!
‘Great, betrothed brother!’
‘Great, brother!’
‘On the road, betrothed brother!’
‘On the road, brother!’
Enough, to know, that gusli-player
Is tearing the hair!
Through hole of heart into chest
Wind did burst!
***
Steel from windlass —
Memory in forehead.
‘Where is host?
What the sheaf
From water, for rays-for-arrows?
In middle of the sea, did sun set?
What is the blood in my chest?’
And the sorcerer: Look at the cloud!
And he sees gusli-players: in ruddy clouds,
In our seas — foggy — lying —
With young gusli-player, shuttle swan…
Under red tent the marvelous husband
He sees — like gold-written-paint!
And the light armor under fiery helmet,
And the red paint on the curls of red,
And, in heavenly seas, a masterful hand,
Prostrate — through the purple space —
To gusli-player’s canoe for versts and versts.
And here — with jumps the mica of the sea,
Here-here with noses come together the ships…
They come — and like marvel of ancient past —
The light-bearing man into canoe with white chest
Descends-leans-pulls off the covers…
Thus wonder at sight of the gusli-players!
And thus he would sincerely laugh —
Like new sun in universe has gone up!
Like golden-maned lion stands over puppy…
Thus, kindness after kindness, laughter after laughter,
Far, far away! In these heavenly seas!
The entire first meeting repeats.
And again fog-stirred up-veil,
And in sky the same dream once again:
Ship — and canoe, and the purple again
Effervescent wave between them —
And again on the fearsome sky — like with brush of gold —
Over the angel — the warrior of steel poured.
And fearsome turmoil on the face round,
The pearly deposit on swarthy gold
He sees. — Thus with silver-he beats-with rain!
What is this for? Or to broads did he turn?
And what can it be, that in a tailed helmet
To weep in two streams over lousy gusli-player!
And the turns you — dope — the black night?
And lasts, and lasts the mirror’s lie…
And here, with sword-having played-to the hilt,
The lips of the gusli-player stamped with a print.
‘He laughs!’ — And of this, say, we don’t care!
Thus, ray after ray, tear after tear,
In wondrous mirror — from edge of sunset —
The second meeting of ours does repeat.
And sees gusli-player, that in magic glass,
Ebony hair is on the white cloth,
And the weak sword with letter written by hand,
And the wide cross — of love with no self,
With which our mothers had crossed: Be alive!
Oh, breaks the armour! Shirt in blood!
The red heart shot up over mud!
Save my soul! The chest of the broad!
To thunder she swore with hand full of blood!
Thus, under seas of two eyes as they cry,
In heavenly seas — far away, far away! —
The final meeting of theirs did play.
***
And again: expanse — with expanse,
Blue — with blueness…
Red — where fell the heart!
Leave behind the son of the Tsar,
He remembers-reads-letter.
Science — not business for the tsars,
Brains did not turn into coat of arms.
To know, how fierce passion overcame,
That on the stores — he once had read:
I am not anywhere.
I am lost into nowhere.
No one will catch up.
Nothing will return.
***
Just like a flower!
Pity to seas!
Eh you, the saber’s
Two pieces!
‘What’ — he whispers —
‘Now remains?’
‘To her host, and to you — angst!’
He waves to all with a strong hand:
Spider — there is now no old man!
Like he’ll stomp, looking with open eyes
There is no spider — wet it is!
He into water — to extract his goods.
FINAL NIGHT
‘Oh, willows, oh, willows —
The midnight brooms!
Oh, willows!
Oh, my faded mouth,
My eyes of glass —
Oh, willows!
To the shore he came
Canoe — without the young man!
Oh, willows!
For me not to live in the world!
Oh, willows, oh wind,
Oh, wind!
Take me, wind,
On your wings, wind,
Oh, wind!
Fogs, take me!
For me not ruddy to be —
Fogs!
With poison-deceit-
Went full-with dope,
Oh, wind!
For me not to live in the world!
Oh, willows, oh wind,
Oh, wind!’
And Wind in response:
‘I met the dear one,
He sends news.
Your white flower is alive,
But is not merry,
Is not light.
In the tent
He swims not looking back —
With a soldier girl.
Of fearsome soldier girl
Under the fiery heel —
Sweet one of yours!
And you want — after the broad
Criminal — in a chase?
We will get ahead!
And if you want —
We will hurry wave after wave?
Let us flood!
Let us flood, let us whirl,
Let us whirl, let us serve?
Let us serve!
And the friend — behind,
Into the chest of fire!’
And she, in tears,
‘Onto me, wind!
Wind, onto me!
Fog, onto me!
Set me free,
Stony coffin for me!’
***
The young one rushes, rushes with the wind!
Sweeps away the trace — willow gray-haired.
Willow, do not make fur!
Broom, do not labor!
Who cares that I flowed away with the wind?
‘Oh you, wind, was not trap for us!’
‘And you, my mother, sit, do not sigh!
Tighter than bonds —
Union with the wind!
I vow not first in loyalty!’
‘Well so, wind, we cannot hear sound of the sea?’
‘And you, my mother, do not think and sit!
Count oncoming birds,
Click stars in forehead —
Won’t wake — and for us-China-land!
‘Why do you shove, man of grey feet?’
‘And you, mom, do not snatch me on the wings!
You won’t fly — don’t be a wuss!
Not such am I a goose —
I did not carry such through all of Rus!’
‘Straight into sky the spirit of the forest strives!’
‘And you, my mother, sit and do not jump!
For your two feet
That span is great —
Not with lover to fall on the down bed!’
‘Oh, wait, I cannot sit, my dear!’
‘Sit, sit, sit, do not fall, my mother!
To low plains —
Not vershok-arshin!
You better don’t quarrel with the old wind!’
‘They tell you, fool, to awkwardly sit!’
‘No, once — is no good! Versts — to deeds!
Not one beautiful lady,
That your braids are!
Not you alone vow in loyalty!’
‘So then, vile one, did you turn belly up?’
‘I could not sit, snake — thus break apart!
Snake of snakes, know:
Sugar-your-glue
Melts between your two breasts!’
***
‘Ooh’
‘Who did hoot suddenly?
Spirit flew out of body!
Do Midnight owl, do not whip
Just the body on stone-brick.’
And the serpent
Midst the stones crawled.
THE END
Over the cellars — floors,
Over the floors — ceilings,
Over the ceiling — domes,
Over the domes — clouds.
There — about our deeds
With the finger writes Fate.
She writes — as if she plows:
She cares not for charter of ours!
Beware, people baptized:
With words of tar she writes!
In clouds — the stars between —
Once lit up — comes true then.
Under the thrones — cellars,
Over the thrones — failures
Of purple, fearsome clouds
With red lightning and thunder.
Above — passion, below — stink…
And they blame the king!
Be happy, while you’re happy!
Under the cellars — thrones.
How God will send the thunder
Was above, is below.
Over the cellars — thrones,
Churchyards — under the cellars,
With our black slave bone,
With our dead flesh of cattle.
Above — passion, below — stink…
And they blame slaves still!
Be happy, face sunken and in pallor!
Under the throne are the cellars!
For the cock not to crow —
Was below, is above now.
‘Who has smashed my kingdom to dust?’
‘And who are you’? — ‘Tsar.’
‘Which Tsar?
No — you’re not Tsar,
Say: Mosquito you are.
You’re bloodsucker, bloated from our blood!
Where are our peasants’ baby cows?
Tsar, heal
Wounds-infirmities of the ill!
We have no food,
We have no drink!
Mash to the pigs —
That’s our dinner all!
Rot with fungus —
The century of ours!
Rot with fungus and burning hay!
‘Who let you into the mansion, devils damned?’
‘By ourselves we came!
Lice we overcame.
All intestines-entrails
We had scraped.
That the peasant Tsar confessed in our woe —
We to tsar the mosquito — the belly open!’
‘Why do you, fools, open the Tsar’s belly?
Tsar, say, has flesh that is holy!
Are you ignorant of the law of God?’
‘Tsar, priests all upon your groves!’
‘Bastard, black bone, you’ve gone mad!
‘The white bones of yours with the meat
We’ll drive apart — then you’ll know, old man:
Bone is another, and blood — is one!’
‘Eh, mushrooms, my noblemen!
True posts, exemplary stems!
Why are you now to remember not light?
‘Tsar, mushrooms without your hat!
Behind your throne on the red squares
Frontal place they brought down with frontal place.’
‘Do not labor — they shout — intestines canine!
Without the head you are taller than I am!’
‘Calico-beads-lollipops-fluff of geese:
Rescue me, you the inn!
And in chest, only the rot like in pan?’
‘From your merchants, Kumach — one tale it is!
There, where roses bloom and on Christmas day
In that place they broke up the tents!
To get lost with you — we aren’t blockheads!
With your water merchants have waved!’
‘Eh, dung flies,
Dogs-Antichrists!
Let out, pig ear,
With slyness — the Tsar!’
‘All went to dip — into our shaker of salt!
All have gone to our side!’
‘Are you alive, God?’
‘And we — off the road,
Leather tanned,
Bootless, bums,
Trash, scum,
With no salt, with no bread,
The wolf’s berries
And to yourself — crud!
‘So not drunk away, then, is my carriage —
To all I’ll bring the boots made of leather!’
‘Leather is for none:
We need your skin.’
‘Spare my spine, dear ones!
I’ll bring sheepskin for your coats!’
‘No, Tsar, we’re not up to fur coats!
You under the sheepskin coat.
What, threw us under matting for centuries!’
‘Oh, what is this, what is this, what is this?’
‘I laughed — cry!’
‘I threatened — cower away!’
Yes, Tsar-Red Cloth,
We are — the red Rus!
Your mother, useless wet nurse,
The fist — executioner — red Rus!
Sha-bash!
Цветаева Марина Ивановна
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