The Demon / Демон. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Михаил ЛермонтовЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Right high the house, right wide the court

      Grey-haired Gudaal has builded him…

      In tears and labour dearly bought

      By slaves submissive to his whim.

      Across the neighbouring cliffs its shade

      From sunrise dark and cool is laid

      A steep stair in the cliff-face hewn

      Leads from the corner-tower down

      To the Aragva. Down this stair

      Princess Tamara, young and fair,

      Goes gleaming, snow white veils a-flutter,

      To fetch her jars of river water.

      In austere silence heretofore

      The house has looked across the valleys;

      But now wide open stands the door

      Gudaal holds feast to mark the marriage

      Of his Tamara: now the wine

      Flows freely and the zurna[4] skirts;

      The clan is gathered round to dine

      And on the roof-top, richly spread

      With orient rugs, the promised bride

      Sits all amongst her laughing girls:

      In games and songs their time is sped

      And merriment. Beyond the hills

      The semicircle of the sun

      Has sunk already. Now the fun

      Crows fast and furious. Now the steady

      Rhythmic clapping and the singing

      The bride brings to her feet, poised ready,

      Her tambourine above her head

      Is circling, she herself goes winging

      Bird-light above rug, then stops,

      Looks round, and lets her lashes drop

      That envious hide her shining glance;

      And now she raises raven brows,

      Now suddenly sways forward slightly

      Her slender foot peeps out, and lightly

      It slides and swims into the dance;

      And see she smiles – a joyous gleam

      Aglow with childish merriment.

      And yet… the white moon's sportive beam

      In rippling water liquid bent

      With such a smile could scarce compare

      More live than life, than youth more fair.

      So by the midnight star I swear

      By blazing East and beaming West

      No Shah of Persia knew her peer

      No King on earth was ever blessed

      To kiss an eye so full and fine.

      The harem's sparkling fountain never

      Showered such a form with dewy pearls!

      Nor had mortal fingers ever

      Caressed a forehead so divine

      To loose such splendid curls;

      Indeed, since Eve was first undone

      And man from Eden forth must fare

      No beauty such as this, I swear,

      Had bloomed beneath the Southern sun.

      So now for the last time she danced

      Alas! Tomorrow, she, the heir

      Of old Gudaal, the daughter fair

      Of liberty must bow her head

      To a slave's fate like one entranced,

      Adopt a country not her own,

      A family she'd never known—

      Often a secret doubt would shed

      A shadow on her radiant face;

      Yet all her movements were so free

      Appealing, redolent of grace

      So full of sweet simplicity

      That, had the Demon soaring high

      Above looked down and chanced to see…

      Then, mindful of his former race,

      He had turned from her – with a sigh…

      The Demon did see… For one second

      It seemed to him that heaven beckoned

      To make his arid soul resound

      With glorious, grace-bestowing sound —

      And once again his thought embraced

      The sacrosanct significance

      Of Goodness, Beauty and of Love!

      And, strangely moved, his memory traced

      The joys that he had known above

      A chain of long magnificence

      Before him link on link unfolding

      As though he watched the headlong flight

      Of star on star shoot through the night…

      And, long the touching scene beholding,

      Held spell-bound by some Power unseen,

      New sadness in his heart awoke.

      Then, suddenly, emotion spoke

      In accents once familiar;

      Could this yet be regeneration?

      The subtle promptings of temptation

      Had gone as though they had not been…

      Oblivion? – God gave this not yet: —

      Nor would he, if he could, forget!..

      …

      Meanwhile, his gallant steed all lathered

      Hastening to join his kin forgathered

      To celebrate his wedding day

      The bridegroom made his urgent way…

      Good fortune yet attended him

      To bright Aragva's verdant bank.

      A