Я знал одной лишь думы власть,
Одну - но пламенную страсть:
Она, как червь, во мне жила,
Изгрызла душу и сожгла.
Она мечты мои звала
От келий душных и молитв
В тот чудный мир тревог и битв,
Где в тучах прячутся скалы,
Где люди вольны, как орлы.
Я эту страсть во тьме ночной
Вскормил слезами и тоской;
Ее пред небом и землей
Я ныне громко признаю
И о прощенье не молю.
И, кстати, вау:
с русс на англ
Sleep, my lovely baby, lullaby. Quietly the bright moon looks into your cradle. I shall tell you stories, and sing you a song; so shut your little eyes and doze, lullaby.
The Terek is flowing over the stones, its turbid waves lapping; the wicked Chechen creeps up the river bank, and sharpens his dagger; but your father is a veteran warrior, tried in battle, sleep, my baby, have no fear, lullaby.
The time will come — you will get to know for yourself the soldier’s way of life; boldly you will put your foot into the stirrup and take up your gun. I shall embroider your war-saddle with silk … Sleep, my darling child, lullaby.
You will be a fine fellow to look at and a Cossack at heart. I shall come out to see you off, and you will wave goodbye. How many bitter tears I shall shed that night in secret! Sleep, my angel, quietly, sweetly, lullaby.
I shall pine and wait for you disconsolately; I shall pray the whole day long, and try to foretell the future at night; I shall think that you are fretting in a foreign land …So sleep, while you know no care, lullaby.
I shall give you a holy icon for your journey; put it before you when you pray to God; and when you prepare for a dangerous battle, remember your mother … Sleep, my lovely baby, lullaby.
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