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diff --git a/old/bakch10.txt b/old/bakch10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1aeba7b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/bakch10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1987 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other Poems +by Alexander Pushkin and other authors + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other Poems + +Author: Alexander Pushkin and other authors + +Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8192] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 30, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Robert Connal +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN. + +BY + +ALEXANDER POOSHKEEN. + + + +AND OTHER POEMS, BY VARIOUS AUTHORS, + + + +TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN, + +BY + +WILLIAM D. LEWIS. + + + + + + +TO + +MY RUSSIAN FRIENDS, + +THE FOLLOWING EFFORT TO RENDER INTO THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE A FAVOURITE POEM +OF ONE OF THEIR MOST ADMIRED BARDS, AND SOME SHORTER PRODUCTIONS OF OTHER +RUSSIAN POETS, + +IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, + +AS A SMALL TESTIMONIAL OF GRATITUDE FOR THE MANY KINDNESSES OF WHICH I WAS +THE OBJECT IN THEIR MOST HOSPITABLE COUNTRY, IN EARLY LIFE. + +THE TRANSLATOR. + +Philadelphia, July, 1849. + + + + + + +THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN. + +A TALE OF THE TAURIDE. + + +Mute sat Giray, with downcast eye, + As though some spell in sorrow bound him, +His slavish courtiers thronging nigh, + In sad expectance stood around him. +The lips of all had silence sealed, + Whilst, bent on him, each look observant, + Saw grief's deep trace and passion fervent +Upon his gloomy brow revealed. + But the proud Khan his dark eye raising, + And on the courtiers fiercely gazing, +Gave signal to them to begone! +The chief, unwitnessed and alone, + Now yields him to his bosom's smart, +Deeper upon his brow severe + Is traced the anguish of his heart; +As full fraught clouds on mirrors clear + Reflected terrible appear! + +What fills that haughty soul with pain? + What thoughts such madd'ning tumults cause? +With Russia plots he war again? + Would he to Poland dictate laws? +Say, is the sword of vengeance glancing? + Does bold revolt claim nature's right? + Do realms oppressed alarm excite? +Or sabres of fierce foes advancing? +Ah no! no more his proud steed prancing + Beneath him guides the Khan to war,-- + Such thoughts his mind has banished far. + +Has treason scaled the harem's wall, +Whose height might treason's self appal, +And slavery's daughter fled his power, +To yield her to the daring Giaour? + +No! pining in his harem sadly, +No wife of his would act so madly; + To wish or think they scarcely dare; +By wretches, cold and heartless, guarded, +Hope from each breast so long discarded; + Treason could never enter there. +Their beauties unto none revealed, + They bloom within the harem's towers, + As in a hot-house bloom the flowers +Which erst perfumed Arabia's field. +To them the days in sameness dreary, + And months and years pass slow away, +In solitude, of life grown weary, + Well pleased they see their charms decay. +Each day, alas! the past resembling, + Time loiters through their halls and bowers; +In idleness, and fear, and trembling, + The captives pass their joyless hours. +The youngest seek, indeed, reprieve +Their hearts in striving to deceive +Into oblivion of distress, +By vain amusements, gorgeous dress, + Or by the noise of living streams, +In soft translucency meand'ring, + To lose their thoughts in fancy's dreams, +Through shady groves together wand'ring. + But the vile eunuch too is there, +In his base duty ever zealous, + Escape is hopeless to the fair +From ear so keen and eye so jealous. + He ruled the harem, order reigned +Eternal there; the trusted treasure + He watched with loyalty unfeigned, +His only law his chieftain's pleasure, + Which as the Koran he maintained. +His soul love's gentle flame derides, +And like a statue he abides + Hatred, contempt, reproaches, jests, +Nor prayers relax his temper rigid, + Nor timid sighs from tender breasts, +To all alike the wretch is frigid. + He knows how woman's sighs can melt, + Freeman and bondman he had felt +Her art in days when he was younger; + Her silent tear, her suppliant look, + Which once his heart confiding shook, +Now move not,--he believes no longer! + +When, to relieve the noontide heat, + The captives go their limbs to lave, +And in sequestered, cool retreat + Yield all their beauties to the wave, +No stranger eye their charms may greet, + But their strict guard is ever nigh, + Viewing with unimpassioned eye + These beauteous daughters of delight; + He constant, even in gloom of night, +Through the still harem cautious stealing, + Silent, o'er carpet-covered floors, + And gliding through half-opened doors, +From couch to couch his pathway feeling, + With envious and unwearied care + Watching the unsuspecting fair; +And whilst in sleep unguarded lying, +Their slightest movement, breathing, sighing, + He catches with devouring ear. +O! curst that moment inauspicious + Should some loved name in dreams be sighed, +Or youth her unpermitted wishes + To friendship venture to confide. + + * * * * * + +What pang is Giray's bosom tearing? + Extinguished is his loved _chubouk_,[1] +Whilst or to move or breathe scarce daring, + The eunuch watches every look; +Quick as the chief, approaching near him, + Beckons, the door is open thrown, +And Giray wanders through his harem + Where joy to him no more is known. +Near to a fountain's lucid waters +Captivity's unhappy daughters + The Khan await, in fair array, +Around on silken carpets crowded, +Viewing, beneath a heaven unclouded, +With childish joy the fishes play +And o'er the marble cleave their way, +Whose golden scales are brightly glancing, +And on the mimic billows dancing. + Now female slaves in rich attire +Serve sherbet to the beauteous fair, + Whilst plaintive strains from viewless choir +Float sudden on the ambient air. + +TARTAR SONG. + + I. + + Heaven visits man with days of sadness, + Embitters oft his nights with tears; + Blest is the Fakir who with gladness + Views Mecca in declining years. + + II. + + Blest he who sees pale Death await him + On Danube's ever glorious shore; + The girls of Paradise shall greet him, + And sorrows ne'er afflict him more. + + III. + + But he more blest, O beauteous Zarem! + Who quits the world and all its woes, + To clasp thy charms within the harem, + Thou lovelier than the unplucked rose! + + +They sing, but-where, alas! is Zarem, +Love's star, the glory of the harem? +Pallid and sad no praise she hears, +Deaf to all sounds of joy her ears, +Downcast with grief, her youthful form +Yields like the palm tree to the storm, +Fair Zarem's dreams of bliss are o'er, +Her loved Giray loves her no more! + +He leaves thee! yet whose charms divine +Can equal, fair Grusinian! thine? +Shading thy brow, thy raven hair +Its lily fairness makes more fair; +Thine eyes of love appear more bright +Than noonday's beam, more dark than night; +Whose voice like thine can breathe of blisses, + Filling the heart with soft desire? +Like thine, ah! whose inflaming kisses + Can kindle passion's wildest fire? + +Who that has felt thy twining arms +Could quit them for another's charms? + Yet cold, and passionless, and cruel, +Giray can thy vast love despise, +Passing the lonesome night in sighs + Heaved for another; fiercer fuel +Burns in his heart since the fair Pole +Is placed within the chief's control. + +The young Maria recent war +Had borne in conquest from afar; +Not long her love-enkindling eyes +Had gazed upon these foreign skies; +Her aged father's boast and pride, +She bloomed in beauty by his side; + Each wish was granted ere expressed. +She to his heart the object dearest, + His sole desire to see her blessed; +As when the skies from clouds are clearest, + Still from her youthful heart to chase +Her childish sorrows his endeavour, +Hoping in after life that never + Her woman's duties might efface +Remembrance of her earlier hours, + But oft that fancy would retrace +Life's blissful spring-time decked in flowers. + Her form a thousand charms unfolded, + Her face by beauty's self was moulded, +Her dark blue eyes were full of fire,-- + All nature's stores on her were lavished; +The magic harp with soft desire, + When touched by her, the senses ravished. +Warriors and knights had sought in vain + Maria's virgin heart to move, +And many a youth in secret pain + Pined for her in despairing love. +But love she knew not, in her breast + Tranquil it had not yet intruded, +Her days in mirth, her nights in rest, + In her paternal halls secluded, +Passed heedless, peace her bosom's guest. + +That time is past! The Tartar's force + Rushed like a torrent o'er her nation,-- + Rages less fierce the conflagration +Devouring harvests in its course,-- + Poland it swept with devastation, +Involving all in equal fate, + The villages, once mirthful, vanished, + From their red ruins joy was banished, +The gorgeous palace desolate! + Maria is the victor's prize;-- +Within the palace chapel laid, +Slumb'ring among th'illustrious dead, + In recent tomb her father lies; +His ancestors repose around, + Long freed from life and its alarms; + With coronets and princely arms +Bedecked their monuments abound! + A base successor now holds sway,-- +Maria's natal halls his hand + Tyrannic rules, and strikes dismay +And wo throughout the ravaged land. + +Alas! the Princess sorrow's chalice + Is fated to the dregs to drain, +Immured in Bakchesaria's palace + She sighs for liberty in vain; + The Khan observes the maiden's pain, +His heart is at her grief afflicted, + His bosom strange emotions fill, + And least of all Maria's will +Is by the harem's laws restricted. + The hateful guard, of all the dread, +Learns silent to respect and fear her, + His eye ne'er violates her bed, +Nor day nor night he ventures near her; + To her he dares not speak rebuke, + Nor on her cast suspecting look. +Her bath she sought by none attended, + Except her chosen female slave, + The Khan to her such freedom gave; +But rarely he himself offended + By visits, the desponding fair, +Remotely lodged, none else intruded; + It seemed as though some jewel rare, +Something unearthly were secluded, + And careful kept untroubled there. + +Within her chamber thus secure, +By virtue guarded, chaste and pure, + The lamp of faith, incessant burning, +The VIRGIN'S image blest illumed, + The comfort of the spirit mourning +And trust of those to sorrow doomed. + The holy symbol's face reflected +The rays of hope in splendour bright, + And the rapt soul by faith directed +To regions of eternal light. + Maria, near the VIRGIN kneeling, +In silence gave her anguish way, + Unnoticed by the crowd unfeeling, +And whilst the rest, or sad or gay, +Wasted in idleness the day, + The sacred image still concealing, +Before it pouring forth her prayer, +She watched with ever jealous care; +Even as our hearts to error given, +Yet lighted by a spark from heaven, +Howe'er from virtue's paths we swerve, +One holy feeling still preserve. + + * * * * * + +Now night invests with black apparel + Luxurious Tauride's verdant fields, +Whilst her sweet notes from groves of laurel + The plaintive Philomela yields. +But soon night's glorious queen, advancing + Through cloudless skies to the stars' song, + Scatters the hills and dales along, +The lustre of her rays entrancing. + In Bakchesaria's streets roamed free +The Tartars' wives in garb befitting, +They like unprisoned shades were flitting + From house to house their friends to see, +And while the evening hours away +In harmless sports or converse gay. + The inmates of the harem slept;-- + Still was the palace, night impending + O'er all her silent empire kept; +The eunuch guard, no more offending + The fair ones by his presence, now +Slumbered, but fear his soul attending + Troubled his rest and knit his brow; +Suspicion kept his fancy waking, + And on his mind incessant preyed, +The air the slightest murmur breaking + Assailed his ear with sounds of dread. +Now, by some noise deceitful cheated, + Starts from his sleep the timid slave, +Listens to hear the noise repeated, + But all is silent as the grave, +Save where the fountains softly sounding + Break from their marble prisons free, +Or night's sweet birds the scene surrounding + Pour forth their notes of melody: +Long does he hearken to the strain, +Then sinks fatigued in sleep again. + +Luxurious East! how soft thy nights, + What magic through the soul they pour! +How fruitful they of fond delights + To those who Mahomet adore! +What splendour in each house is found, + Each garden seems enchanted ground; + Within the harem's precincts quiet +Beneath fair Luna's placid ray, + When angry feelings cease to riot +There love inspires with softer sway! + + * * * * + +The women sleep;--but one is there +Who sleeps not; goaded by despair +Her couch she quits with dread intent, +On awful errand is she bent; + Breathless she through the door swift flying +Passes unseen; her timid feet +Scarce touch the floor, she glides so fleet. + In doubtful slumber restless lying +The eunuch thwarts the fair one's path, +Ah! who can speak his bosom's wrath? +False is the quiet sleep would throw +Around that gray and care-worn brow; +She like a spirit vanished by +Viewless, unheard as her own sigh! + + * * * * + +The door she reaches, trembling opes, + Enters, and looks around with awe, +What sorrows, anguish, terrors, hopes, + Rushed through her heart at what she saw! +The image of the sacred maid, + The Christian's matron, reigning there, + And cross attracted first the fair, +By the dim lamp-light scarce displayed! + Oh! Grusinka, of earlier days +The vision burst upon thy soul, + The tongue long silent uttered praise, +The heart throbs high, but sin's control + Cannot escape, 'tis passion, passion sways! + +The Princess in a maid's repose +Slumbered, her cheek, tinged like the rose, + By feverish thought, in beauty blooms, +And the fresh tear that stains her face + A smile of tenderness illumes. +Thus cheers the moon fair Flora's race, + When by the rain opprest they lie + The charm and grief of every eye! +It seemed as though an angel slept + From heaven descended, who, distressed, + Vented the feelings of his breast, +And for the harem's inmates wept! + Alas! poor Zarem, wretched fair, + By anguish urged to mere despair, + On bended knee, in tone subdued + And melting strain, for pity sued. + + "Oh! spurn not such a suppliant's prayer!" + Her tones so sad, her sighs so deep, + Startled the Princess in her sleep; +Wond'ring, she views with dread before her + The stranger beauty, frighted hears +For mercy her soft voice implore her, + Raises her up with trembling hand, + And makes of her the quick demand, + "Who speaks? in night's still hour alone, + Wherefore art here?" "A wretched one, + To thee I come," the fair replied, + "A suitor not to be denied; +Hope, hope alone my soul sustains; + Long have I happiness enjoyed, + And lived from sorrow free and care, +But now, alas! a prey to pains + And terrors, Princess hear my prayer, + Oh! listen, or I am destroyed! + +Not here beheld I first the light, + Far hence my native land, but yet + Alas! I never can forget +Objects once precious to my sight; + Well I remember towering mountains, + Snow-ridged, replete with boiling fountains, + Woods pervious scarce to wolf or deer, + Nor faith, nor manners such as here; + But, by what cruel fate o'ercome, + How I was snatched, or when, from home +I know not,--well the heaving ocean + Do I remember, and its roar, +But, ah! my heart such wild commotion + As shakes it now ne'er felt before. +I in the harem's quiet bloomed, + Tranquil myself, waiting, alas! +With willing heart what love had doomed; + Its secret wishes came to pass: +Giray his peaceful harem sought, + For feats of war no longer burned, +Nor, pleased, upon its horrors thought, + To these fair scenes again returned. + +"Before the Khan with bosoms beating + We stood, timid my eyes I raised, +When suddenly our glances meeting, + I drank in rapture as I gazed; +He called me to him,--from that hour +We lived in bliss beyond the power +Of evil thought or wicked word, +The tongue of calumny unheard, + Suspicion, doubt, or jealous fear, +Of weariness alike unknown, + Princess, thou comest a captive here, +And all my joys are overthrown, + Giray with sinful passion burns, +His soul possessed of thee alone, + My tears and sighs the traitor spurns; +No more his former thoughts, nor feeling + For me now cherishes Giray, +Scarce his disgust, alas! concealing, + He from my presence hastes away. +Princess, I know the fault not thine + That Giray loves thee, oh! then hear + A suppliant wretch, nor spurn her prayer! + + Throughout the harem none but thou +Could rival beauties such as mine + Nor make him violate his vow; +Yet, Princess! in thy bosom cold + The heart to mine left thus forlorn, +The love I feel cannot be told, + For passion, Princess, was I born. +Yield me Giray then; with these tresses + Oft have his wandering fingers played, +My lips still glow with his caresses, + Snatched as he sighed, and swore, and prayed, +Oaths broken now so often plighted! +Hearts mingled once now disunited! + His treason I cannot survive; +Thou seest I weep, I bend my knee, + Ah! if to pity thou'rt alive, +My former love restore to me. + Reply not! thee I do not blame, +Thy beauties have bewitched Giray, + Blinded his heart to love and fame, +Then yield him up to me, I pray, + Or by contempt, repulse, or grief, + Turn from thy love th'ungenerous chief! +Swear by thy _faith_, for what though mine + Conform now to the Koran's laws, +Acknowledged here within the harem, +Princess, my mother's faith was thine, +By that faith swear to give to Zarem + Giray unaltered, as he was! +But listen! the sad prey to scorn + If I must live, Princess, have care, + A dagger still doth Zarem wear,-- +I near the Caucasus was born!" + +She spake, then sudden disappeared, + And left the Princess in dismay, +Who scarce knew what or why she feared; + Such words of passion till that day +She ne'er had heard. Alas! was she + To be the ruthless chieftain's prey? +Vain was all hope his grasp to flee. + Oh! God, that in some dungeon's gloom +Remote, forgotten, she had lain, + Or that it were her blessed doom +To 'scape dishonour, life, and pain! + How would Maria with delight +This world of wretchedness resign; + Vanished of youth her visions bright, +Abandoned she to fates malign! + Sinless she to the world was given, +And so remains, thus pure and fair, + Her soul is called again to heaven, +And angel joys await it there! + + * * * * * + +Days passed away; Maria slept + Peaceful, no cares disturbed her, now,-- +From earth the orphan maid was swept. + But who knew when, or where, or how? +If prey to grief or pain she fell, +If slain or heaven-struck, who can tell? +She sleeps; her loss the chieftain grieves, +And his neglected harem leaves, + Flies from its tranquil precincts far, +And with his Tartars takes the field, + Fierce rushes mid the din of war, +And brave the foe that does not yield, + For mad despair hath nerved his arm, +Though in his heart is grief concealed, + With passion's hopeless transports warm. +His blade he swings aloft in air + And wildly brandishes, then low +It falls, whilst he with pallid stare + Gazes, and tears in torrents flow. + +His harem by the chief deserted, + In foreign lands he warring roved, +Long nor in wish nor thought reverted + To scene once cherished and beloved. +His women to the eunuch's rage +Abandoned, pined and sank in age; +The fair Grusinian now no more +Yielded her soul to passion's power, +Her fate was with Maria's blended, +On the same night their sorrows ended; + Seized by mute guards the hapless fair +Into a deep abyss they threw,-- + If vast her crime, through love's despair, +Her punishment was dreadful too! + +At length th'exhausted Khan returned, + Enough of waste his sword had dealt, +The Russian cot no longer burned, + Nor Caucasus his fury felt. +In token of Maria's loss + A marble fountain he upreared +In spot recluse;--the Christian's cross + Upon the monument appeared, +(Surmounting it a crescent bright, + Emblem of ignorance and night!) +Th'inscription mid the silent waste +Not yet has time's rude hand effaced, + Still do the gurgling waters pour +Their streams dispensing sadness round, + As mothers weep for sons no more, +In never-ending sorrows drowned. + In morn fair maids, (and twilight late,) +Roam where this monument appears, + And pitying poor Maria's fate + Entitle it the FOUNT OF TEARS! + + * * * * * + +My native land abandoned long, +I sought this realm of love and song. +Through Bakchesaria's palace wandered, +Upon its vanished greatness pondered; + All silent now those spacious halls, +And courts deserted, once so gay + With feasters thronged within their walls, +Carousing after battle fray. + Even now each desolated room +And ruined garden luxury breathes, + The fountains play, the roses bloom, +The vine unnoticed twines its wreaths, + Gold glistens, shrubs exhale perfume. +The shattered casements still are there + Within which once, in days gone by, +Their beads of amber chose the fair, + And heaved the unregarded sigh; +The cemetery there I found, + Of conquering khans the last abode, +Columns with marble turbans crowned + Their resting-place the traveller showed, +And seemed to speak fate's stern decree, +"As they are now such all shall be!" +Where now those chiefs? the harem where? +Alas! how sad scene once so fair! +Now breathless silence chains the air! + But not of this my mind was full, +The roses' breath, the fountains flowing, +The sun's last beam its radiance throwing + Around, all served my heart to lull +Into forgetfulness, when lo! +A maiden's shade, fairer than snow, + Across the court swift winged its flight;-- + Whose shade, oh friends! then struck my sight? + Whose beauteous image hovering near + Filled me with wonder and with fear? +Maria's form beheld I then? + Or was it the unhappy Zarem, +Who jealous thither came again + To roam through the deserted harem? +That tender look I cannot flee, +Those charms still earthly still I see! + + * * * * * + +He who the muse and peace adores, + Forgetting glory, love, and gold, +Again thy ever flowery shores + Soon, Salgir! joyful shall behold; +The bard shall wind thy rocky ways + Filled with fond sympathies, shall view + Tauride's bright skies and waves of blue +With greedy and enraptured gaze. + Enchanting region! full of life +Thy hills, thy woods, thy leaping streams, + Ambered and rubied vines, all rife +With pleasure, spot of fairy dreams! + Valleys of verdure, fruits, and flowers, + Cool waterfalls and fragrant bowers! +All serve the traveller's heart to fill + With joy as he in hour of morn + By his accustomed steed is borne +In safety o'er dell, rock, and hill, + Whilst the rich herbage, bent with dews, +Sparkles and rustles on the ground, + As he his venturous path pursues +Where AYOUDAHGA'S crags surround! + +[1] A Turkish pipe. + + + + + + +AMATORY AND OTHER POEMS, + +BY + +VARIOUS RUSSIAN AUTHORS. + + +[Several of the following translations were published anonymously, many +years since, in the "National Gazette," when edited by Robert Walsh, Esq., +and in the "Atlantic Souvenir," and other periodicals.] + + + + + + +AMATORY AND OTHER POEMS. + + + + + + +SONG. + + +I through gay and brilliant places + Long my wayward course had bound, +Oft had gazed on beauteous faces, + But no loved one yet had found. + +Careless, onward did I saunter, + Seeking no beloved to see, +Rather dreading such encounter, + Wishing ever to be free. + +Thus from all temptation fleeing, + Hoped I long unchecked to rove, +'Till the fair Louisa seeing,-- + Who can see her, and not love? + +Sol, his splendid robes arrayed in, + Just behind the hills was gone, +When one eve I saw the maiden + Tripping o'er the verdant lawn. + +Of a strange, tumultuous feeling, + As I gazed I felt the sway, +And, with brain on fire and reeling, + Homeward quick I bent my way. + +Through my bosom rapid darting, + Love 'twas plain I could not brave, +And with boasted freedom parting, + I became Louisa's slave. + + + + + + +THE HUSBAND'S LAMENT. + +BY P. PELSKY. + + +Parted now, alas! for ever + From the object of my heart, +Thus by cruel fate afflicted, + Grief shall be my only part, + +I, bereft of her blest presence, + Shall my life in anguish spend, +Joy a stranger to my bosom, + Wo with every thought shall blend. + +Double was my meed of pleasure + When in it a share she bore, +Of my pains, though keen and piercing, + Viewing her I thought no more. + +All is past! and I, unhappy, + Here on earth am left alone, +All my transports now are vanished, + Blissful hours! how swiftly flown. + +Vainly friends, with kind compassion, + Me to calm my grief conjure, +Vainly strive my heart to comfort, + It the grave alone can cure. + +Fate one hope allows me only, + Which allays my bosom's pain-- +Death our loving hearts divided, + Death our hearts can join again! + + + + + + +COUNSEL. + +BY DMEETRIEFF. + + +Youth, those moments so entrancing, + Spend in sports and pleasures gay, +Mirth and singing, love and dancing, + Like a shade thou'lt pass away! + +Nature points the way before us, + Friends to her sweet voice give ear, +Form the dances, raise the chorus, + We but for an hour are here. + +Think the term of mirth and pleasure + Comes no more when once gone by, +Let us prize life's only treasure, + Blest with love and jollity. + +And the bard all sorrows scorning, + Who, though old, still joins your ring, +With gay wreaths of flowers adorning + Crown him that he still may sing. + +Youth, those moments so entrancing, + Spend in sports and pleasures gay, +Mirth and singing, love and dancing, + Like a shade thou'lt pass away! + + + + + + +STANZAS. + +BY NELAIDINSKY. + + +He whose soul from sorrow dreary, + Weak and wretched, nought can save, +Who in sadness, sick and weary, + Hopes no refuge but the grave; +On his visage Pleasure beaming, + Ne'er shall shed her placid ray, +Till kind Fate, from wo redeeming, + Leads him to his latest day. + +Thou this life preservest ever, + My distress and my delight! +And, though soul and body sever, + Still I'll live a spirit bright; +In my breast the heart that's kindled + Death's dread strength can ne'er destroy, +Sure the soul with thine that's mingled + Must immortal life enjoy! + +That inspired by breath from heaven + Need not shrink at mortal doom, +To thee shall my vows be given + In this world and that to come. +My fond shade shall constant trace thee, + And attend in friendly guise, +Still surround thee, still embrace thee, + Catch thy thoughts, thy looks, thy sighs. + +To divine its secret pondering, + Close to clasp thy soul 'twill brave, +And if chance shall find thee wandering + Heedless near my silent grave, +Even my ashes then shall tremble, + Thy approach relume their fire, +And that stone in dust shall crumble, + Covering what can ne'er expire! + + + + + + +ODE TO THE WARRIORS OF THE DON. + +WRITTEN IN 1812, BY N.M. SHATROFF. + + +Sudden o'er Moscow rolls the dread thunder, +Fierce o'er his proud borders Don's torrents flow, +High swells each bosom, glowing with vengeance + 'Gainst the base foe. + +Scarce in loud accents spoke our good Monarch, +"Soldiers of Russia! Moscow burns bright, +Foemen destroy her,"--hundreds of thousands + Rush to the fight. + +"Who dare oppose God? who oppose Russians?" +Cried the brave Hetman,--steeds round him tramp,-- +"The Frenchman's ashes quickly we'll scatter, + Show us his camp! + +"TSAR true-believing we are all ready, +Thy throne's defenders, each proud heart bent +By the assault th' invader's black projects + To circumvent. + +"Russians well know the rough road to glory, +Rhine's banks by our troops soon shall be trod, +We fight for vengeance, for love of country, + And faith in God! + +"BELIEVE and conquer, fear not for Russia, +Awful the blow the cross-bearer strikes, +Th'arkan[1] is dreadful, the sword unsparing, + Sharp are our pikes. + +"Vain are Napoleon's skill, strength, and cunning, +Nor do his hosts fill us with despair, +For Michael[2] leads us, and Mary's[3] image + With us we bear. + +"To horse, brothers, haste, the foe approaches, +Holy faith guides us, in God we trust, +Quick, true believers, rush to the onset, + God aids the just! + +"Sternly rush on, friends, crush the vile Frenchman, +Firm be as mountains when tempests blow, +Oh! into Russia grant not the foul one + Further to go." + +Don, broad and mighty, poured forth her children, +The world was amazed, pale with affright, +Napoleon abandoned his fame, and sought + Safety in flight. + +On all sides alike pikes gleam around us, +Through air hiss arrows, cannons bright flash, +Bullets, like bees, in swarms fly terrific, + Mingling swords clash. + +Not half a million of fierce invaders +Can meet the rage of Russia's attacks; +Not more than they the timid deer shrinks at + Sight of Cossacks. + +O'er blood-drenched plains their red standards scattered, +Their arms abandoned, spoils left behind: +Death they now flee from, to loss of honour + Basely resigned. + +Vainly they shun it, fruitless their cunning, +Jove's bird strikes down the blood-thirsty crow, +The fame and bones of Frenchmen in Russia + Alike lie low. + +Thus th' ambitious usurper is vanquished, +Thus his legions destroyed as they flee, +Thus white-stoned Moscow, the first throned city, + Once more set free. + +To God, all potent, let thanks be rendered, +Honoured our TSAR'S and each chieftain's name, +To th'Empire safety, to Don's brave offspring + Laurels and fame! + +[1] Lasso. + +[2] Kutuzoff. + +[3] The Virgin. + + + + + + +SOLITUDE. + +BY MERZLIAKOFF. + + +Upon a hill, which rears itself midst plains extending wide, +Fair flourishes a lofty OAK in beauty's blooming pride; +This lofty oak in solitude its branches wide expands, +All lonesome on the cheerless height like sentinel it stands. +Whom can it lend its friendly shade, should Sol with fervour glow? +And who can shelter _it_ from harm, should tempests rudely blow? +No bushes green, entwining close, here deck the neighbouring ground, +No tufted pines beside it grow, no osiers thrive around. +Sad even to trees their cheerless fate in solitude if grown, +And bitter, bitter is the lot for youth to live alone! +Though gold and silver much is his, how vain the selfish pride! +Though crowned with glory's laurelled wreath, with whom that crown divide? +When I with an acquaintance meet he scarce a bow affords, +And beauties, half saluting me, but grant some transient words. +On some I look myself with dread, whilst others from me fly, +But sadder still the uncherished soul when Fate's dark hour draws nigh; +Oh! where my aching heart relieve when griefs assail me sore? +My friend, who sleeps in the cold earth, comes to my aid no more! +No relatives, alas! of mine in this strange clime appear, +No wife imparts love's fond caress, sweet smile, or pitying tear; +No father feels joy's thrilling throb, as he our transport sees; +No gay and sportive little ones come clambering on my knees;-- +Take back all honours, wealth, and fame, the heart they cannot move, +And give instead the smiles of friends, the tender look of love! + + + + + + +TO MY ROSE. + + +Bright queen of flowers, O! Rose, gay blooming, + How lovely are thy charms to me! +Narcissus proud, pink unassuming, + In beauty vainly vie with thee; +When thou midst Flora's circle shinest, + Each seems thy slave confessed to sigh, +And thou, O! loveliest flower, divinest, + Allur'st alone the passer's eye. + +To change thy fate the thought has struck me, + Sweet Rose, in beauty, ah! how blest, +For fair Eliza I will pluck thee, + And thou shalt deck her virgin breast:-- +Yet, there thy beauties vainly shining, + No more predominance will claim, +To lilies, all thy pride resigning, + Thou'lt yield without dispute thy fame. + + + + + + +TO CUPID. + + +Cupid, one arrow kindly spare, + 'Twill yield me transport beyond measure, +I'll not be mean, by heaven I swear, + With Mary I'll divide the treasure. + +Thou wilt not?--Tyrant, now I see + Thou lovest with grief my soul to harrow; +To her thou'st given thy quiver--for me + Thou hast not left a single arrow! + + + + + + +EVENING MEDITATIONS. + + +Nature in silence sank, and deep repose, + Behind the mountain, Sol had ceased to glare, +Timid the moon with modest lustre rose, + Willing as though my misery to share. +The past was quick presented to my mind, + A gentle languor calmed each throbbing vein, +My poor heart trembled as the leaves from wind, + My melting soul owned melancholy's reign. +Plain did each action of my life appear, + Each feeling bade some fellow feeling start, +On my parched bosom fell the flowing tear, + And cooled the burning anguish of my heart. +Moments of bliss, I cried, ah! whither flown? + When Friendship breathed to me her soothing sighs, +Twice have the fields with golden harvests shone, + And still her blest return stern Fate denies! +Cynthia, thou seest me lone my course pursue, + Hopeless here roving, grief my only guide, +Evenings long past thou call'st to Fancy's view, + Forcing the tear down my pale cheek to glide. +Friendless, of love bereft, what now my joy? + Void are my heart and soul, a prey to pain, +To love, to be beloved, can never cloy, + But all on earth besides, alas! is vain! + + + + + + +THE LITTLE DOVE. + +BY DMETRIEFF. + + +The little dove, with heart of sadness, + In silent pain sighs night and day, +What now can wake that heart to gladness? + His mate beloved is far away. + +He coos no more with soft caresses, + No more is millet sought by him, +The dove his lonesome state distresses, + And tears his swimming eyeballs dim. + +From twig to twig now skips the lover, + Filling the grove with accents kind, +On all sides roams the harmless rover, + Hoping his little friend to find. + +Ah! vain that hope his grief is tasting, + Fate seems to scorn his faithful love, +And imperceptibly is wasting, + Wasting away, the little dove! + +At length upon the grass he threw him, + Hid in his wing his beak and wept, +There ceased his sorrows to pursue him, + The little dove for ever slept. + +His mate, now sad abroad and grieving, + Flies from a distance home again, +Sits by her friend, with bosom heaving, + And bids him wake with sorrowing pain. + +She sighs, she weeps, her spirits languish, + Around and round the spot she goes, +Ah! charming Chloe's lost in anguish, + Her friend wakes not from his repose! + + + + + + +LAURA'S PRAYER. + + +As the harp's soft sighings in the silent valley, +To high heaven reaching, lifts thy pious prayer, +Laura, be tranquil! again with health shall nourish + Thy loved companion. + +O! ye gods, behold fair Laura sunk in anguish, +Kneeling, O! behold her on the grassy hill, +Mild evening's sportive zephyrs gently embracing + Her golden ringlets. + +Glist'ning with tears, her sad eyes to you she raises, +Her fair bosom heaving like the swelling wave, +Whilst in the solemn grove echo, clothed in darkness, + Repeats her accents. + +"O! gods, my friend beloved give again health's blessings, +Faded are her cheeks now, dull her once bright eye, +In her heart no pleasure,--killed by cruel sickness, + As by heat flowers. + +"But if your hard laws should bid her quit existence, +Grant then my sad prayer, with her let me too die,"-- +Laura, be tranquil! thy friend thou'lt see reviving + Like spring's sweet roses. + + + + + + +THE STORM. + +BY DERJAVIN. + + +As my bark in restless ocean + Mounts its rough and foaming hills, +Whilst its waves in dark commotion + Pass me, hope my bosom fills. + +Who, when warring clouds are gleaming, + Quenches the destructive spark? +Say what hand, where safety's beaming, + Guides through rocks my little bark? + +Thou Creator! all o'erseeing, + In this scene preserv'st me dread, +Thou, without whose word decreeing + Not a hair falls from my head. + +Thou in life hast doubly blest me, + All my soul to thee's revealed, +Thou amongst the great hast placed me, + Be midst them my guide and shield! + + + + + + +TO MY HEART. + + +Why, poor heart, so ceaseless languish? + Why with such distresses smart? +Nought alleviates thy anguish, + What afflicts thee so, poor heart? + +Heart, I comprehend not wrongly, + Thou a captive art confest, +Near Eliza thou beat'st strongly + As thou'dst leap into her breast. + +Since 'tis so then, little throbber, + You and I, alas! must part, +I'd not be thy comfort's robber; + To her I'll resign thee, heart. + +Yet the maid in compensation + Must her own bestow on me, +And with such remuneration + Never shall I grieve for thee. + +But should she, thy sorrows spurning, + This exchange, poor heart, deny, +Then I'll bear thee, heart, though mourning, + From her far and hasty fly. + +But, alas! no pain assuaging, + That would but increase thy grief; +If kind Death still not its raging, + Granting thee a kind relief. + + + + + + +TIME. + + +O! Time, as thou on rapid wings + Encirclest earth's extensive ball, +Fatal thy flight to worldly things, + Thy darts cut down and ruin all. + +A cloud from us thy form conceals; + Enwrapt its gloomy folds among, +Thou mov'st eternity's vast wheels, + And with them movest us along. + +The swift-winged days thou urgest on, + With them life's sand beholdest pass, +And when our transient hours are gone, + Thou smilest at their exhausted glass. + +Against Time's look, when he but frowns, + All strength, and skill, and power, are vain; +He withers laurels, wreaths, and crowns, + And breaks the matrimonial chain. + +As Time moves onward, far and wide + His restless scythe mows all away, +All feels his breath, on every side + All sinks, resistless, to decay. + +To youth's gay bloom and beauty's charms + Mercy alike stern Time denies, +Like vernal flowers o'erwhelmed by storms, + Whate'er he looks at droops and dies. + +Huge piles from earth his mighty hand + Sweeps to oblivion's empire dread, +What villages, what cities grand, + What kingdoms sink beneath his tread! + +Heroes in vain, his gauntlet cast, + Oppose his stern and ruthless sway, +Nor armies brave, nor mountains vast, + Can thwart the devastator's way. + +Thought strives, but fruitless, to pursue + The traces of Time's rapid flight, +Scarce Fancy gains one transient view, + He disappears and sinks in night. + +Think, thou whom folly's dazzling glare + Of worldly vanities may blind, +Time frowns and all will disappear, + Nor gold a vestige leave behind. + +And thou whom fierce distresses sting, + Thou by calamities low bowed, +Weep not, for Time the day will bring + That ranks the humble with the proud. + +But, Time, thy course of ruin stay, + The lyre's sweet tones one moment hear, +By thee o'er earth is spread dismay, + Grief's sigh called forth, and pity's tear. + +Yet, Time, thy speed the dread decree + Of retribution on thee brings, +Eternity will swallow thee, + Thy motion stop, and clip thy wings! + + + + + + +SONG. + + +Sweetly came the morning light, +When fair Mary blest my sight, +In her presence pleasures throng, +Louder swelled the birds their song, + Pleasanter the day became. + +Not so radiant are Sol's rays, +When on darkest clouds they blaze, +As her look, so free from guile, +As fair Mary's tender smile, + As the smile of my beloved. + +Not of dew the gems divine +Shine as Mary's beauties shine, +Not with hers the rose's dye +On the fairest cheek can vie, + None have beauty like to hers. + +Mary's kiss as honey sweet, +Pure as streamlet clear and fleet, +Love inhabits her soft eyes, +Floats in all her soothing sighs, + Nought on earth so sweet as she. + +Let us, Mary, now enjoy +Nature's charms without alloy, +Verdant lawn, and smiling grove;-- +Brooks that babble but of love + Will beside us softer flow. + +Let us seek the pleasant shade, +Sit in bowers by us arrayed +With gay flow'rets, where are heard +Songs of many a pleasant bird, + Which with rapture we will join. + +In that sweet and lovely spot, +All the cares of earth forgot, +Thou, the comfort of my sight, +Thou, my glory, my delight, + Shalt my soul to peace allure. + + + + + + +SONG. + + +The shades of spring's delicious even + Invited all to soft repose, +I only sighed to listening heaven + In the still grove my bosom's woes. + +My heart's distress had Fate completed, + Snatched from my sight my best beloved, +And echo's busy voice repeated + Sweet Mary's name where'er I roved. + +Without her sad the days and dreary, + How cheerless drag life's moments on, +Of pleasure's tumults sick and weary, + All blissful thoughts for ever flown! + +But still to me more keen the anguish, + With secret grief my heart must swell, +That her for whom I ceaseless languish + I dare not of my passion tell. + +No hope my cruel pain disarming, + I live a prey to ceaseless wo, +And Mary, sweet, and fair, and charming, + How much I love her does not know. + +How shall I calm this bosom's raging? + O! how alleviate its smart? +Her tender look, all grief assuaging, + Alone can cure my wounded heart. + + + + + + +SONG. + + +How blest am I thy charms enfolding, + Cheerful thy smile as May's fair light, + As Paradise thine eyes are bright, +I all forget when thee beholding,-- + Thou canst not think how sweet thou art. +Thy absence fills my soul with anguish, + Beloved one! hopeless of relief + I count the mournful hours in grief, +My heart for thee doth ceaseless languish,-- + Thou canst not think how sweet thou art! + + + + + + +TO MARY. + + +Vainly, Mary, dost thou pray me + Heedless of thy charms to live, +If thou'dst have me, fair, obey thee, + Thou another heart must give. + +One with stern indifference steeling, + That could know thee and be free, +One that all thy virtues feeling, + Could exist removed from thee. + +That in which thine image blooming, + Holds an empire all its own, +Which, though thou to grief art dooming, + Lives, fair maid, in thee alone; + +Every thought to thee addresses, + Filled by thee with visions bright, +Even 'midst sorrows, pains, distresses, + Thou'rt its comfort, hope, delight. + +I be faithless! love avowing, + To thee first I bent my knee, +Even with soul thy looks endowing, + First I knew _it_ knowing _thee_. + +Yes, my soul to thee returning, + Thine own gift do I restore, +Thou the offering proudly spurning, + I its charm can know no more. + +Do not bid me, hope resigning, + My fond vows of love to cease, +How can I, in silence pining, + Cruel fair one, mar thy peace? + + + + + + +N O T E. + + +Of the following translation of Derjavin's Ode to God, universally +esteemed as one of the sublimest effusions of the Russian Muse, I beg +leave to say that my aim has been to render it into English as literally +as the genius of our language would admit, without adding or suppressing a +single thought, or amplifying a single expression, to accomplish which +metrically would of course be impossible. + +If I have succeeded, my readers will be better able to judge whether this +Ode, after having been translated into the Japanese language, merited the +great honour of being suspended, embroidered with gold, in the temple of +Jeddo, than they can be by a perusal of the highly poetic effort of Dr. +Bowring. For, whilst he has adhered to the structure of versification +adopted in the original, and in some parts has given its sense with +remarkable accuracy, in others he has been less fortunate; and in +venturing to change the Trinitarian faith of Derjavin to suit his own +notions of the unity of the Supreme Being, he has taken a liberty with his +author which cannot but be deemed unwarrantable. + +THE TRANSLATOR. + + + + + + +TO GOD. + +BY DERJAVIN. + + +O! Thou, infinite in space, +Existing in the motion of matter, +Eternal amidst the mutations of time, +Without person, in three persons the Divinity! +The single and omnipresent spirit, +To whom there is neither place nor cause, +Whom none could ever comprehend, +Who fillest all things with thyself, +Embracest, animatest, and preservest them, +Thou whom we denominate God! + +Although a sublime mind might be able +To measure the depths of ocean, +To count the sands, the rays of the planets, +To thee there is neither number nor measure! +Enlightened spirits, although +Proceeding from thy light, +Cannot penetrate thy judgments; +Thought scarce dare lift itself to thee; +It is lost in thy greatness, +Like the past moment in eternity. + +Thou calledst chaos into existence, +Before time, from the abyss of eternity, +And eternity, existing prior to all ages, +Thou foundedst within thyself. +Constituting thyself of thyself, +By means of thyself shining from thyself, +Thou art the light from which light first flowed; +Creating all things by a single word, +Extending thyself throughout the new creation, +Thou wast, thou art, thou shalt be for ever! + +Thou unitest within thyself the chain of beings, +Upholdest and animatest it, +Thou connectest the end with the beginning, +And through death bestowest life. +As sparks shoot forth and scatter themselves, +Thus suns are born of thee: +As, in a cold and clear winter's day, +Particles of frost scintillate, +Whirl about, reel, and glisten,[1] +Even so do the stars in the abysses beneath thee! + +Millions of lighted torches +Fly throughout infinite space, +They execute thy laws, +And shed life-creating rays. +But these fiery luminaries, +Or shining masses of crystal, +Or crowds of boiling golden waves, +Or blazing ether, +Or all the dazzling worlds united-- +Compared to thee are like night compared to day. + +Like a drop of water cast into the ocean +Is this whole firmament compared to thee. +But what is the universe which I behold, +And who am I, in thy presence? +Were I to add to the millions of worlds +Existing in the ocean of air, +A hundred fold as many other worlds--and then +Dare to compare them to thee, +They would scarcely appear an atom, +And I compared to thee--nothing! + +Nothing! yet thou shinest in me +Through thy great goodness: +In me thou imagest thyself, +As the sun is reflected in a small drop of water. +Nothing! yet I am sensible of my existence, +By an indescribable longing I ascend +Steadfastly to a higher region: +My soul hopes to be even as thou, +It inquires, meditates, reasons; +I am, and doubtless thou must be. + +THOU ART! the order of nature proclaims it; +My heart declares it to be so, +My mind assures me of it. +Thou art! and I am not, therefore, nothing! +I am a particle of the whole universe, +Placed, as I think, in that important +Middle point of being, +Where thou finishedst mortal creatures, +Where thou began'st heavenly spirits, +And the chain of all beings unitedst by me. + +I am the bond of worlds existing everywhere; +I am the extreme grade of matter; +I am the centre of living things, +The commencing trait of the Divinity; +My body will resolve itself into ashes, +My mind commands the thunder. +I am a king, a slave, a worm, a god! +But, being thus wonderful, +From whence have I proceeded? This is unknown. +But I could not have existed of myself! + +I am thy work, Creator! +I am the creature of thy supreme wisdom, +Fountain of life, Giver of blessings, +Soul and monarch of my soul! +It was necessary to thy justice +That my immortal being +Should traverse the abyss of death, +That my spirit should be veiled in perishable matter, +And that through death I should return, +Father! to thy immortality! + +Inexplicable, incomprehensible Being! +I know that the imaginings +Of my soul are unable +Even to sketch thy shadow! +But, if it be our duty to praise thee, +Then it is impossible for weak mortals +Otherwise to render thee homage +Than, simply, to lift their hearts to thee, +To give way to boundless joy, +And shed tears of gratitude! + + +[1] The full beauty of this metaphor can only be felt by those who have +witnessed, in a high northern latitude during intensely cold and clear +weather, the state of the atmosphere which the poet describes. + +TRANSLATOR. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other +Poems, by Alexander Pushkin and other authors + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN *** + +This file should be named bakch10.txt or bakch10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, bakch11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, bakch10a.txt + +Produced by David Starner, Robert Connal +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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