Demon, final edition. Demon Final Edition Sad Demon Spirit of Exile flew

Poem by M.Yu. Lermontov's "Demon" can be considered the visiting card of the writer. Here we see both the Caucasus, beloved by the author, and the philosophical thoughts of the author regarding good and evil. The poem is not without the theme of the impossibility of love, which was so relevant for Mikhail Yuryevich himself. A masterful depiction of nature, dialogues full of psychologism and romantic pathos, a variety of mythological and folklore motifs - all this contains this masterpiece of Russian literature.

The poem "Demon" has 8 editions, since Lermontov began writing his work at the age of 14 and returned to work on his brainchild throughout his life. Early editions are notable for the lack of integrity of images, a large number of philosophical arguments. The year 1838 becomes a turning point for the development of the author's idea, when the 6th and 7th editions appear from the poet's pen. Now a more mature creator does not draw a parallel between the Demon and himself and endows his hero with monologues.

The poem is based on the biblical myth of the fallen angel, and also refers to Georgian folklore and details of local life.

Genre and direction

The main character of the poem can be called the prototype of the hero-exile, who has firmly taken his place in the literature of romanticism. This is the Fallen Angel, suffering for his insolence and disobedience. The very appeal to such an image is a characteristic feature of romanticism. One of the first was Milton (“Paradise Lost”), who turned to this character and Byron influenced Russian literature, does not bypass the eternal image and A.S. Pushkin.

The poem is permeated with ideas of struggle both at the global level (opposition between the Demon and God) and inside the soul of an individual character (the Demon wants to improve, but pride and a thirst for pleasure torment him).

The presence of folklore motifs also makes it possible to classify "The Demon" as a romantic poem.

About what?

In Georgia, in the luxurious house of Prince Gudal, lives his daughter, a girl of incredible beauty, Tamara. She is waiting for her wedding, the courtyard has already been cleaned for the celebration, but the Demon flying over the peaks of the Caucasus has already noticed the girl, he was captivated by her. The groom hurries to the wedding, followed by a rich caravan of camels, but in the gorge the travelers are overtaken by robbers. So the joy of the wedding turns into the grief of the funeral.

The demon, now without rival, appears to Tamara, wanting to possess her. The poor girl wants to find protection from God and goes to a monastery. There she is guarded by a Guardian Angel, but one night the Demon overcame this barrier and seduced the girl. Tamara died, but her soul was saved by an Angel and transferred to Paradise, where she found peace.

Main characters and their characteristics

Daemon- a very complex character of the poem. The image of the Demon itself goes back to Biblical stories, but in Lermontov's poem we already meet the author's interpretation of this archetype. He is punished by eternal life, and his existence will always be accompanied by loneliness and longing. It would seem that one can envy this unique opportunity: to observe mountain beauties from a bird's eye view, but even this bored the hero. Even evil no longer brings him pleasure. But the characteristic of the Demon cannot be reduced only to the negative. He meets a girl comparable to a fairy-tale maiden, with such beauty as "the world has never seen". But she is beautiful not only in appearance and outfits, but also in her soul.
Tamara modest, chaste, believes in God, she was not created for this world, it is no coincidence that the Demon wants to find salvation through love for her. Feeling this new feeling for him, the Fallen Angel wants to do only good, to take the true path. But, as we see further, the hero cannot cope with his pride, and all his good intentions turn into dust. The tempter is impudent and persistent, on the way to pleasure he is not going to yield to either the pleas of a defenseless girl or the persuasion of God's messenger.

Themes

Love. Love occupies a special place in the poem. It has limitless power: sometimes it destroys heroes, sometimes it gives hope, and sometimes it promises eternal torment. Jealous rush to the bride ruins Tamara's fiancé, for the Demon, this girl is the hope of salvation. Love awakens long-forgotten feelings in the Fallen Angel, it makes him, terrified, afraid and cry.
Struggle. Rejected by Heaven, the Demon is no longer able to endure his torment. In the poem, he appears to the reader as having already lost all taste for existence, even evil does not bring him pleasure. The last chance to win forgiveness is the love of a young pure girl. Tamara for the Demon is a tool to fight the Sky. He got rid of the Angel, seduced Tamara, but he is not able to overcome himself, his vices, for which he is doomed to suffer forever. Tamara struggles with the tempter, she does not give in to his words against the Almighty, desperately wanting to avoid the hellish abode.
Loneliness. The “spirit of exile” has been wandering “in the desert of the world without shelter” for several centuries. The only consolation of his existence is the memories of the past, when he was among his fellow “pure cherubs”. Love for a mortal pure girl makes the Demon even more acutely celebrate his longing and loneliness. It seems that at some point he is ready to show humility and bow before the Almighty: he hears an evening song, it reminds the Fallen Angel of Paradise. The demon, who had previously inspired fear and horror in everyone, is now crying with hot tears himself.
Faith. Only thanks to her unshakable faith in God, Tamara escapes from the torments of hell. A disdainful attitude towards religion destroys, according to the author's intention, the princess' fiancé. Tempting the beauty, the Demon whispers to her that God is busy only with heavenly affairs, and does not pay attention to earthly things. But the girl did not succumb to the slander of evil, for which her soul was saved by the Guardian Angel.

Idea

Angel and Demon are two sides of the same soul. Man is dual by nature, Good and Evil always fight in him. The purpose of the protagonist of the poem is to sow doubt, to awaken crafty thoughts in a person. For obedience to the Demon, God can severely punish, as happened with Tamara's fiancé.

The Demon is also defeated, but is Heaven so cruel to him? It gives the exile a chance to save himself through sincere love, leading to virtue, but the hero cannot cope with his negative beginning and thereby destroys himself and the girl.

Issues

Love and vice are incompatible - Lermontov actualizes this problem in The Demon. For the author, this feeling is rather sacred, given by Heaven, rather than earthly. When they forget about the beauty of the soul, and think only about the pleasures of the flesh, love is replaced by sin. True feeling calls for virtue, self-sacrifice, the rejection of pride.

But not everyone is given the ability to love in this way. Obsessed with a thirst for superiority over Heaven and the desire to experience pleasure, for the first time in many hundreds of years, the Demon breaks the last saving thread. Both the Fallen Angel and Tamara become victims of sinful passion, but the girl who worships God is saved, and the Demon, who stubbornly opposes the Creator, dooms himself to eternal suffering. This is how the moral problem of pride is reflected - the dark side of the soul of each of us.

The characters face the problem of moral choice. The demon between humility and passion chooses the latter, for which he receives even more suffering. Tamara's fiance listened to the sly voice and neglected prayer on the road, for which he paid dearly, Tamara manages to resist the temptations of the tempter, so the Gates of Paradise are open for her.

Criticism

In the assessment of the critics of "Demon" in certain periods of its literary history, the poem is presented in different ways. The appearance of this demonic image on Russian soil was in some way a literary event, the reviewers were in awe of the work, primarily because they realized what kind of history this topic has behind it in world literature. One of the greatest critics of that time, V.G. Belinsky himself admits that the "Demon" became for him a measure of "truths, feelings, beauties." V.P. Botkin saw in the poem a revolutionary view of the universe. Many of the researchers of Lermontov's work still argue about the importance of some editions, without unconditionally giving the palm to the final version.
Quite different was the criticism of a later period. "Demon" became the object of ridicule and mockery, especially realists, V. Zaitsev, A. Novodvorsky, had an extremely negative attitude towards one of the main symbols of romanticism.

A. Blok, the torch of poetry of the beginning of the last century, rehabilitates the poem, continuing the tradition of Lermontov in his poem "Demon".

Reading the verse "Demon" by Lermontov Mikhail Yuryevich will definitely appeal to all lovers of mystical works. It is filled with metaphors and other artistic devices. The image of evil spirits often appeared in the literature of that time. At the same time, God was considered the main tyrant. It was he who often demanded complete obedience from a person, dooming him to suffering and pain. One of the biblical legends dedicated to this tragedy was also taken by Lermontov as the basis for the plot. He worked on this poem for 12 years, creating a vivid image of the Demon, doomed to loneliness in this deserted and boring world.

Initially, when reading the work, one feels the poet's sympathy for his hero. Young Lermontov admired the desire of the Demon to resist, fight, overcome. Such impudence was quite combined with the maximalism of the author. The very fact of man's limitations in time and space was disgusting to him. Each of the characters of the poem is closed in his own secluded world. The text of Lermontov's poem "Demon" is the personification of the futility of confronting external factors. The love of the lyrical hero for Princess Tamara ends very sadly. The demon invites her to renounce everything familiar, to give freedom in its entirety. But the price of freedom is too high. The girl dies in the name of this love, plunging the Demon into complete despair - he is defeated.

The main philosophical issue raised in the work is the problem of doubt. Truth remains so until a person begins to subject it to skeptical reflections. In some things, really, you have to take a word, thoughtlessly, without fail. But as soon as the Demon penetrates the mind, sowing a seed of doubt in it, each belief becomes only a reason for disappointment. Using seemingly mystical stories, plots that Lermontov heard at different periods of his life, the poet revealed a huge philosophical thought that continues to impress new generations after many years. The reader involuntarily begins to evaluate his own beliefs, trying to find flaws in them. The Inner Demon sits in everyone and, sooner or later, he will find a way to communicate about himself. That is why these need to be taught in literature classes in high school. The work can be downloaded in full or read online on our website.

Eastern story

Sad Demon, spirit of exile,
He flew over the sinful earth,
And better days of remembrance
A crowd crowded before him;
Those days when in the dwelling of light
He shone, a pure cherub,
When a running comet
A smile of affectionate greetings
Loved to trade with him
When through eternal fogs,
Greedy for knowledge, he followed
Nomadic caravans
In the space of abandoned luminaries;
When he believed and loved
Happy firstborn of creation!
I knew neither malice nor doubt,
And did not threaten his mind
Centuries of barren series of dull ...
And many, many ... and everything
He did not have the strength to remember!
II

Long outcast wandered
In the wilderness of a world without shelter:
After the century, the century fled,
Like a minute a minute
Uniform sequence.
Insignificant dominating the earth,
He sowed evil without pleasure,
Nowhere to your art
He met no resistance
And evil bored him.
III

And over the peaks of the Caucasus
The exile of paradise flew by:
Under it, Kazbek, like a facet of a diamond,
Shined with eternal snows,
And, deep down blackening,
Like a crack, a serpent's dwelling,
The radiant Daryal curled,
And Terek, jumping like a lioness
With a shaggy mane on the ridge,
Roared, - and a mountain beast and a bird,
Circling in the azure height
Heeded the word of his waters;
And golden clouds
From the southern countries, from afar
He was escorted north;
And the rocks in a tight crowd,
Full of mysterious slumber,
Bowed their heads over him
Following the flickering waves;
And towers of castles on the rocks
Looked menacingly through the mists -
At the gates of the Caucasus on the clock
Guard Giants!
And wild and wonderful was around
All God's world; but a proud spirit
looked contemptuously
Creation of your god
And on his high forehead
Nothing reflected.
IV

And in front of him is a different picture
Living colors bloomed:
Luxurious Georgia Valley
Carpet spread out in the distance;
Happy, lush end of the earth!
pillared rains,
Ringing running streams
Along the bottom of multi-colored stones,
And bushes of roses, where the nightingales
Sing beauties, unrequited
To the sweet voice of their love;
Chinar spreading canopy,
Densely crowned with ivy,
Caves where the scorching day
Timid deer lurk;
And shine, and life, and the noise of sheets,
Hundred-sounding voices,
The breath of a thousand plants!
And half a day voluptuous heat,
And fragrant dew
Always wet nights
And the stars are bright as eyes
Like the look of a young Georgian woman!..
But, apart from cold envy,
Nature did not excite the brilliance
In the exile's barren chest
No new feelings, no new forces;
And all that he saw before him
He despised or hated.
V

Tall house, wide yard
Gray-haired Gudal built himself ...
Works and tears, he cost a lot
Slaves obedient for a long time.
In the morning on the slope of neighboring mountains
Shadows cast from its walls.
Steps are cut into the rock;
They are from the corner tower
They lead to the river, flickering along them,
Covered with a white veil 1,
Princess Tamara young
He goes to Aragva for water.
VI

Always silent on the valleys
I looked from the cliff a gloomy house;
But there is a big feast in it today -
Zurna 2 sounds, and guilt pours -
Gudal betrothed his daughter,
He called the whole family to the feast.
On the carpeted roof
The bride sits between her friends:
Among games and songs their leisure
Passes. distant mountains
The semicircle of the sun is already hidden;
Striking in the palm of your hand,
They sing - and their tambourine
The young bride takes.
And here she is, with one hand
Circling it over your head
Then suddenly it rushes lighter than a bird,
It will stop, look -
And her wet eyes shine
From under an envious eyelash;
That will lead with a black eyebrow,
Then suddenly it leans a little,
And glides on the carpet, floats
Her divine foot;
And she smiles
Full of children's fun
But a ray of the moon, in unsteady moisture
Slightly playing at times
Hardly compares to that smile
Like life, like youth, alive.
VII

I swear by the midnight star
Beam of sunset and east,
Ruler of Persia golden
And not a single king of the earth
I did not kiss such an eye;
Harem Sprinkling Fountain
Never hot sometimes
With its pearly dew
I did not wash such a camp!
Still no one's earthly hand,
Wandering over the sweet brow,
She did not unravel such hair;
Since the world lost paradise
I swear she's such a beauty
Under the sun of the south did not bloom.
VIII

She danced for the last time.
Alas! expected in the morning
Her, heiress of Gudal,
Freedom frisky child
The fate of the sad slave
Fatherland, alien to this day,
And an unknown family.
And often secret doubt
Dark light features;
And all her movements were
So slender, full of expression,
So full of sweet simplicity
What if the Demon, flying,
At that time he looked at her
Then, remembering the former brethren,
He turned away b - and sighed ...
IX

And the Demon saw... For a moment
inexplicable excitement
He suddenly felt in himself
The dumb soul of his desert
Filled with blessed sound -
And again he comprehended the shrine
Love, kindness and beauty!
And long sweet picture
He admired - and dreams
About the former happiness with a long chain,
Like a star behind a star
They rolled before him then.
Bound by an invisible force
He became familiar with the new sadness;
A feeling suddenly spoke in him
once native language.
Was that a sign of rebirth?
He is the words of insidious temptation
I couldn't find it in my mind...
Forget? - God did not give oblivion:
Yes, he would not take oblivion! ..
………………………………………………………………
X

Having exhausted a good horse,
To the wedding feast at sunset
The impatient groom hurried.
Aragva light he happily
Reached the green shores.
Under the heavy burden of gifts
Barely, barely crossing
Behind him camels a long line
The road stretches, flickering:
Their bells are ringing.
He himself, the ruler of Synodal,
Leading a rich caravan.
A dexterous camp is tightened with a belt;
Saber and dagger frame
Shines in the sun; behind the back
The gun with notch notch.
The wind plays with its sleeves
His chuhi 3 - she's all around
All trimmed with galloon.
Colored embroidered silk
His saddle; bridle with brushes;
Under it, a dashing horse covered in soap
Priceless suit, golden.
Pet frisky Karabakh
It spins with ears and, full of fear,
Snoring squints with steepness
On the foam of a galloping wave.
Dangerous, narrow is the coastal path!
Cliffs on the left side
To the right is the depth of the rebellious river.
It's too late. At the top of the snow
The blush fades; the fog came up...
The caravan stepped up.
XI

And here is the chapel on the road...
Here for a long time rests in God
Some prince, now a saint,
Killed by a vengeful hand.
Since then, for a holiday or for a battle,
Wherever the traveler hurries,
Always fervent prayer
He brought at the chapel;
And that prayer saved
From a Muslim dagger.
But the daring groom despised
The custom of their great-grandfathers.
His insidious dream
The crafty Demon was indignant:
He is in my thoughts, under the darkness of the night,
Kissed the lips of the bride.
Suddenly, two people flashed ahead,
And more - a shot! - what's happened?..
Standing up on voiced 4 stirrups,
Pulling on the eyebrows dads, 5
The brave prince did not say a word;
A Turkish trunk flashed in his hand,
Whip click - and, like an eagle,
He rushed ... and shot again!
And a wild cry and a deaf moan
Rushed into the depths of the valley -
The battle did not last long:
The timid Georgians fled!
XII

Everything was quiet; huddled in a crowd,
On the corpses of riders sometimes
The camels looked on in horror;
And deaf in the silence of the steppe
Their bells rang.
A magnificent caravan was plundered;
And over the bodies of Christians
Draws circles night bird!
No peaceful tomb awaits them
Under a layer of monastic slabs,
Where the ashes of their fathers were buried;
Sisters with mothers will not come,
Covered with long veils
With longing, sobs and prayers,
To their coffin from distant places!
But with a diligent hand
Here by the road, over the rock
A cross will be erected in memory;
And the ivy that grew in the spring
He, caressing, will wrap around
With its emerald net;
And, having turned off the difficult road,
More than once a tired pedestrian
Rest under God's shadow...
XIII

The horse rushes faster than the deer,
Snoring and torn, as if to scold;
Then suddenly besiege at a gallop,
Listens to the wind
Widely flaring nostrils;
That, at once hitting the ground
With thorns of sonorous hooves,
Waving his tousled mane,
It flies forward without memory.
It has a silent rider!
He beats on the saddle sometimes,
Leaning on the mane with his head.
He no longer rules the occasions
I put my feet in the stirrups,
And blood in wide streams
You can see him on the saddle.
Dashing horse, you are the master
Brought out of the battle like an arrow
But an evil Ossetian bullet
Caught him in the dark!
XIV

In the Gudala family weeping and groaning,
People are crowding in the yard:
Whose horse rushed on fire
And fell on the stones at the gate?
Who is this breathless rider?
Kept a trail of swearing anxiety
Wrinkles of a swarthy brow.
In the blood of weapons and dress;
In the last frenzied shake
The hand on the mane froze.
Not for long the young groom,
Bride, your gaze was waiting:
He kept the prince's word,
He rode to the wedding feast ...
Alas! but never again
Do not sit on a dashing horse! ..
XV

For a carefree family
God's punishment flew like thunder!
Fell on her bed
Sobs poor Tamara;
Tear after tear
The chest is high and difficult to breathe;
And now she seems to hear
Magical voice above you:
"Don't cry, child! don't cry in vain!
Your tear on a mute corpse
Living dew will not fall:
She only blurs her clear eyes,
Virgin cheeks burn!
He is far away, he does not know
Will not appreciate your anguish;
Heavenly light now caresses
The disembodied gaze of his eyes;
He hears heavenly tunes...
That life is petty dreams
And the groans and tears of the poor maiden
For a guest of the heavenly side?
No, the lot of mortal creation,
Believe me, my earthly angel,
Not worth a moment
Your sorrow dear!
On the ocean of air
No rudder and no sails
Quietly floating in the fog
Choirs of slender luminaries;
Among the boundless fields
Walking in the sky without a trace
Clouds elusive
Fibrous herds.
The hour of parting, the hour of goodbye -
They neither joy nor sorrow;
They have no desire in the future
And don't feel sorry for the past.
On the day of agonizing misfortune
You only remember them;
Be to the earth without participation
And as careless as they are!
Only night with its cover
The tops of the Caucasus will overshadow
Only the world, with a magic word
Bewitched, shut up;
Only the wind over the rock
Will move the withered grass,
And the bird hidden in it
Flutters more cheerfully in the darkness;
And under the vine,
Dew of heaven swallowing greedily,
The flower will bloom at night;
Only a golden month
From behind the mountain will quietly rise
And steal a glance at you,
I will fly to you;
I will stay until morning
And silk eyelashes
Dreams of gold evoke ... "
XVI

The words fell silent in the distance
After the sound, the sound died.
She jumps up and looks around...
Unspeakable confusion
In her chest; sadness, fear,
Rapture ardor - nothing in comparison.
All the feelings in her boiled suddenly;
The soul tore its shackles,
Fire ran through my veins
And this voice is wonderfully new,
She thought it still sounded.
And before the morning dream is desired
Tired eyes closed;
But he revolted her thought
A prophetic and strange dream.
The stranger is foggy and mute,
Beauty shining unearthly,
He bowed to her headboard;
And his gaze with such love,
Looked at her so sadly
As if he regretted it.
It wasn't an angel
Her divine guardian:
Crown of Rainbow Beams
Did not decorate his curls.
That was not hell, a terrible spirit,
Vicious martyr - oh no!
It looked like a clear evening:
Neither day nor night, neither darkness nor light!

A crowd crowded before him;

Those days when in the dwelling of light

He shone, a pure cherub,

When a running comet

A smile of affectionate greetings

Loved to trade with him

When through eternal fogs,

Greedy for knowledge, he followed

Nomadic caravans

In the space of abandoned luminaries;

When he believed and loved

Happy firstborn of creation!

I knew neither malice nor doubt,

And did not threaten his mind

A barren series of centuries...

And many, many... and everything

He did not have the strength to remember!

Long outcast wandered

In the wilderness of a world without shelter:

After the century, the century fled,

Like a minute a minute

Uniform sequence.

Insignificant dominating the earth,

He sowed evil without pleasure,

Nowhere to your art

He met no resistance

And evil bored him.

And over the peaks of the Caucasus

The exile of paradise flew by:

Under it, Kazbek, like a facet of a diamond,

Shined with eternal snows,

And, deep down blackening,

Like a crack, a serpent's dwelling,

The radiant Daryal curled,

And Terek, jumping like a lioness

With a shaggy mane on the ridge,

Roared, - and a mountain beast and a bird,

Circling in the azure height

Heeded the word of his waters;

And golden clouds

From the southern countries, from afar

He was escorted north;

And the rocks in a tight crowd,

Full of mysterious slumber,

Bowed their heads over him

Following the flickering waves;

And towers of castles on the rocks

Looked menacingly through the mists -

At the gates of the Caucasus on the clock

Guard Giants!

And wild and wonderful was around

All God's world; but a proud spirit

looked contemptuously

Creation of your god

And on his high forehead

Nothing reflected.

And in front of him is a different picture

Living colors bloomed:

Luxurious Georgia Valley

Carpet spread out in the distance;

Happy, lush end of the earth!

pillared rains,

Ringing running streams

Along the bottom of multi-colored stones,

And bushes of roses, where the nightingales

Sing beauties, unrequited

Chinar spreading canopy,

Densely crowned with ivy,

Caves where the scorching day

Timid deer lurk;

And shine, and life, and the noise of sheets,

The breath of a thousand plants!

And half a day voluptuous heat,

And fragrant dew

Always wet nights

And the stars are bright as eyes

Like the look of a young Georgian woman!..

But, apart from cold envy,

In the exile's barren chest

No new feelings, no new forces;

And all that he saw before him

He despised or hated.

Tall house, wide yard

Gray-haired Gudal built himself ...

Works and tears, he cost a lot

Slaves obedient for a long time.

In the morning on the slope of neighboring mountains

Shadows cast from its walls.

Steps are cut into the rock;

They are from the corner tower

They lead to the river, flickering along them,

Covered with a white veil 1,

Princess Tamara young

He goes to Aragva for water.

Always silent on the valleys

I looked from the cliff a gloomy house;

But there is a big feast in it today -

Zurna 2 sounds, and guilt pours -

Gudal betrothed his daughter,

He called the whole family to the feast.

On the carpeted roof

The bride sits between her friends:

Among games and songs their leisure

Passes. distant mountains

The semicircle of the sun is already hidden;

Striking in the palm of your hand,

They sing - and their tambourine

The young bride takes.

And here she is, with one hand

Circling it over your head

Then suddenly it rushes lighter than a bird,

It will stop, look -

And her wet eyes shine

From under an envious eyelash;

That will lead with a black eyebrow,

Then suddenly it leans a little,

And glides on the carpet, floats

Her divine foot;

And she smiles

Full of children's fun

But a ray of the moon, in unsteady moisture

Slightly playing at times

Hardly compares to that smile

Like life, like youth, alive.

I swear by the midnight star

Beam of sunset and east,

Ruler of Persia golden

And not a single king of the earth

Harem Sprinkling Fountain

Never hot sometimes

With its pearly dew

I did not wash such a camp!

Still no one's earthly hand,

Wandering over the sweet brow,

She did not unravel such hair;

Since the world lost paradise

I swear she's such a beauty

Under the sun of the south did not bloom.

She danced for the last time.

Alas! expected in the morning

Her, heiress of Gudal,

Freedom frisky child

The fate of the sad slave

Fatherland, alien to this day,

And an unknown family.

And often secret doubt

Dark light features;

And all her movements were

So slender, full of expression,

So full of sweet simplicity

What if the Demon, flying,

At that time he looked at her

Then, remembering the former brethren,

He turned away b - and sighed ...

And the Demon saw... For a moment

inexplicable excitement

He suddenly felt in himself

The dumb soul of his desert

Filled with blessed sound -

And again he comprehended the shrine

Love, kindness and beauty!

And long sweet picture

He admired - and dreams

About the former happiness with a long chain,

Like a star behind a star

They rolled before him then.

Bound by an invisible force

He became familiar with the new sadness;

once native language.

Was that a sign of rebirth?

He is the words of insidious temptation

I couldn't find it in my mind...

Forget? - God did not give oblivion:

Yes, he would not take oblivion! ..

.......................................................................
X

Having exhausted a good horse,

To the wedding feast at sunset

The impatient groom hurried.

Aragva light he happily

Reached the green shores.

Under the heavy burden of gifts

Barely, barely crossing

Behind him camels a long line

The road stretches, flickering:

Their bells are ringing.

He himself, the ruler of Synodal,

Leading a rich caravan.

A dexterous camp is tightened with a belt;

Saber and dagger frame

Shines in the sun; behind the back

The gun with notch notch.

The wind plays with its sleeves

His chuhi 3 - she's all around

All trimmed with galloon.

Colored embroidered silk

His saddle; bridle with brushes;

Under it, a dashing horse covered in soap

Priceless suit, golden.

Pet frisky Karabakh

It spins with ears and, full of fear,

Snoring squints with steepness

On the foam of a galloping wave.

Dangerous, narrow is the coastal path!

Cliffs on the left side

To the right is the depth of the rebellious river.

It's too late. At the top of the snow

The blush fades; fog came up...

The caravan stepped up.

And here is the chapel on the road...

Here for a long time rests in God

Some prince, now a saint,

Killed by a vengeful hand.

Since then, for a holiday or for a battle,

Wherever the traveler hurries,

Always fervent prayer

He brought at the chapel;

And that prayer saved

From a Muslim dagger.

But the daring groom despised

The custom of their great-grandfathers.

His insidious dream

The crafty Demon was indignant:

He is in my thoughts, under the darkness of the night,

Kissed the lips of the bride.

Suddenly, two people flashed ahead,

And more - a shot! - what's happened?..

Standing up on voiced 4 stirrups,

Pulling on the eyebrows dads, 5

A Turkish trunk flashed in his hand,

Whip click - and, like an eagle,

He rushed... and shot again!

And a wild cry and a deaf moan

Rushed into the depths of the valley -

The battle did not last long:

The timid Georgians fled!

Everything was quiet; huddled in a crowd,

On the corpses of riders sometimes

The camels looked on in horror;

And deaf in the silence of the steppe

Their bells rang.

A magnificent caravan was plundered;

And over the bodies of Christians

Draws circles night bird!

No peaceful tomb awaits them

Under a layer of monastic slabs,

Where the ashes of their fathers were buried;

Sisters with mothers will not come,

Covered with long veils

With longing, sobs and prayers,

To their coffin from distant places!

But with a diligent hand

Here by the road, over the rock

A cross will be erected in memory;

And the ivy that grew in the spring

He, caressing, will wrap around

With its emerald net;

And, having turned off the difficult road,

More than once a tired pedestrian

Rest under God's shadow...

The horse rushes faster than the deer,

Snoring and torn, as if to scold;

Then suddenly besiege at a gallop,

Listens to the wind

Widely flaring nostrils;

That, at once hitting the ground

With thorns of sonorous hooves,

Waving his tousled mane,

It flies forward without memory.

It has a silent rider!

He beats on the saddle sometimes,

Leaning on the mane with his head.

He no longer rules the occasions

I put my feet in the stirrups,

You can see him on the saddle.

Dashing horse, you are the master

Brought out of the battle like an arrow

But an evil Ossetian bullet

Caught him in the dark!

In the Gudala family weeping and groaning,

People are crowding in the yard:

Whose horse rushed on fire

And fell on the stones at the gate?

Who is this breathless rider?

Kept a trail of swearing anxiety

Wrinkles of a swarthy brow.

In the blood of weapons and dress;

In the last frenzied shake

The hand on the mane froze.

Not for long the young groom,

Bride, your gaze was waiting:

He kept the prince's word,

He rode to the wedding feast...

Alas! but never again

Do not sit on a dashing horse! ..

For a carefree family

God's punishment flew like thunder!

Fell on her bed

Sobs poor Tamara;

Tear after tear

The chest is high and difficult to breathe;

And now she seems to hear

"Don't cry, child! don't cry in vain!

Your tear on a mute corpse

Living dew will not fall:

She only blurs her clear eyes,

Virgin cheeks burn!

He is far away, he does not know

Will not appreciate your anguish;

Heavenly light now caresses

The disembodied gaze of his eyes;

He hears heavenly tunes...

That life is petty dreams

And the groans and tears of the poor maiden

For a guest of the heavenly side?

No, the lot of mortal creation,

Believe me, my earthly angel,

Your sorrow dear!

On the ocean of air

No rudder and no sails

Quietly floating in the fog

Choirs of slender luminaries;

Among the boundless fields

Walking in the sky without a trace

Clouds elusive

Fibrous herds.

The hour of parting, the hour of goodbye -

They neither joy nor sorrow;

They have no desire in the future

And don't feel sorry for the past.

On the day of agonizing misfortune

You only remember them;

Be to the earth without participation

And as careless as they are!

Only night with its cover

The tops of the Caucasus will overshadow

Only the world, with a magic word

Bewitched, shut up;

Only the wind over the rock

Will move the withered grass,

And the bird hidden in it

Flutters more cheerfully in the darkness;

And under the vine,

Dew of heaven swallowing greedily,

The flower will bloom at night;

Only a golden month

From behind the mountain will quietly rise

And steal a glance at you,

I will fly to you;

I will stay until morning

And silk eyelashes

Dreams of gold evoke ... "

The words fell silent in the distance

After the sound, the sound died.

She jumps up and looks around...

Unspeakable confusion

In her chest; sadness, fear,

Rapture ardor - nothing in comparison.

All the feelings in her boiled suddenly;

She thought it still sounded.

And before the morning dream is desired

Tired eyes closed;

But he revolted her thought

A prophetic and strange dream.

The stranger is foggy and mute,

Beauty shining unearthly,

He bowed to her headboard;

And his gaze with such love,

Looked at her so sadly

As if he regretted it.

It wasn't an angel

Her divine guardian:

Crown of Rainbow Beams

Did not decorate his curls.

That was not hell, a terrible spirit,

Vicious martyr - oh no!

It looked like a clear evening:

Neither day nor night, neither darkness nor light!

Mikhail Yurjevich Lermontov

Eastern story

Sad Demon, spirit of exile,

He flew over the sinful earth,

And better days of remembrance

A crowd crowded before him;

Those days when in the dwelling of light

He shone, a pure cherub,

When a running comet

A smile of affectionate greetings

Loved to trade with him

When through eternal fogs,

Greedy for knowledge, he followed

Nomadic caravans

In the space of abandoned luminaries;

When he believed and loved

Happy firstborn of creation!

I knew neither malice nor doubt,

And did not threaten his mind

Centuries of barren series of dull ...

And many, many ... and everything

He did not have the strength to remember!

Long outcast wandered

In the wilderness of a world without shelter:

After the century, the century fled,

Like a minute a minute

Uniform sequence.

Insignificant dominating the earth,

He sowed evil without pleasure.

Nowhere to your art

He met no resistance

And evil bored him.

And over the peaks of the Caucasus

The exile of paradise flew by:

Under it, Kazbek, like a facet of a diamond,

Shined with eternal snows,

And, deep down blackening,

Like a crack, a serpent's dwelling,

The radiant Daryal curled,

And Terek, jumping like a lioness

With a shaggy mane on the ridge,

Roared, - and a mountain beast, and a bird,

Circling in the azure height

Heeded the word of his waters;

And golden clouds

From the southern countries, from afar

He was escorted north;

And the rocks in a tight crowd,

Full of mysterious slumber,

Bowed their heads over him

Following the flickering waves;

And towers of castles on the rocks

Looked menacingly through the mists -

At the gates of the Caucasus on the clock

Guard Giants!

And wild and wonderful was around

All God's world; but a proud spirit

looked contemptuously

Creation of your god

And on his high forehead

Nothing was reflected.

And in front of him is a different picture

Living colors bloomed:

Luxurious Georgia Valley

Carpet spread out in the distance;

Happy, lush end of the earth!

pillared rains,

Ringing running streams

Along the bottom of multi-colored stones,

And bushes of roses, where the nightingales

Sing beauties, unrequited

Chinar spreading canopy,

Densely crowned with ivy,

Caves where the scorching day

Timid deer lurk;

And shine and life and noise of sheets,

The breath of a thousand plants!

And half a day voluptuous heat,

And fragrant dew

Always wet nights

And the stars are bright as eyes

Like the look of a young Georgian woman!..

But, apart from cold envy,

Nature did not excite the brilliance

In the exile's barren chest

No new feelings, no new forces;

And all that he saw before him

He despised or hated.

Tall house, wide yard

Gray-haired Gudal built himself ...

Works and tears, he cost a lot

Slaves obedient for a long time.

In the morning on the slope of neighboring mountains

Shadows cast from its walls.

Steps are cut into the rock;

They are from the corner tower

They lead to the river, flickering along them,

Princess Tamara young

He goes to Aragva for water.

Always silent on the valleys

I looked from the cliff a gloomy house;

But there is a big feast in it today -

The brave prince did not say a word;

A Turkish trunk flashed in his hand,

Whip click - and like an eagle

He rushed ... and shot again!

And a wild cry, and a deaf moan

Rushed into the depths of the valley -

The battle did not last long:

The timid Georgians fled!

Everything is quiet; huddled in a crowd,

On the corpses of riders sometimes

The camels looked on in horror;

And deaf in the silence of the steppe

Their bells rang.

A magnificent caravan was plundered;

And over the bodies of Christians

Draws circles night bird!

No peaceful tomb awaits them

Under a layer of monastic slabs,

Where the ashes of their fathers were buried;

Sisters with mothers will not come,

Covered with long veils

With longing, sobs and prayers,

To their coffin from distant places!

But with a diligent hand

Here by the road, over the rock

A cross will be erected in memory;

And the ivy that grew in the spring

He, caressing, will wrap around

With its emerald net;

And, having turned off the difficult road,

More than once a tired pedestrian

Rest under God's shadow...

The horse rushes faster than the deer,

Snores and is torn as if to abuse;

Then suddenly besiege at a gallop,

Listens to the wind

Widely flaring nostrils;

That, at once hitting the ground

With thorns of sonorous hooves,

Waving his tousled mane,

It flies forward without memory.

It has a silent rider!

He beats on the saddle sometimes,

Leaning on the mane with his head.

He no longer rules the occasions

I put my feet in the stirrups,

And blood in wide streams

You can see him on the saddle.

Dashing horse, you are the master

Brought out of the battle like an arrow

But an evil Ossetian bullet

Caught him in the dark!

In the Gudala family weeping and groaning,

People are crowding in the yard:

Whose horse rushed on fire

And fell on the stones at the gate?

Who is this breathless rider?

Kept a trail of swearing anxiety

Wrinkles of a swarthy brow.

In the blood of weapons and dress;

In the last frenzied shake

The hand on the mane froze.

Not for long the young groom,

Bride, your gaze was waiting:

He kept the prince's word,

He rode to the wedding feast ...

Alas! but never again

Do not sit on a dashing horse! ..

For a carefree family

God's punishment flew like thunder!

Fell on her bed

Sobs poor Tamara;

Tear after tear

The chest is high and difficult to breathe;

And now she seems to hear

"Don't cry, child! don't cry in vain!

Your tear on a mute corpse

Living dew will not fall:

She only blurs her clear eyes,

Virgin cheeks burn!

He is far away, he does not know

Will not appreciate your anguish;

Heavenly light now caresses

The disembodied gaze of his eyes;

He hears heavenly tunes...

That life is petty dreams

And the groans and tears of the poor maiden

For a guest of the heavenly side?

No, the lot of mortal creation,

Believe me, my earthly angel,

Not worth a moment

Your sorrow dear!

"On the ocean of air,

No rudder and no sails

Quietly floating in the fog

Choirs of slender luminaries;

Among the boundless fields

Walking in the sky without a trace

Clouds elusive

Fibrous herds.

The hour of parting, the hour of goodbye -

They neither joy nor sorrow;

They have no desire for the future

And don't feel sorry for the past.

On the day of agonizing misfortune

You only remember them;

Be to the earth without participation

And as careless as they are!

"Only the night with its cover

The tops of the Caucasus will overshadow

Only the world, with a magic word

Bewitched, shut up;

Only the wind over the rock

Will move the withered grass,

And the bird hidden in it

Flutters more cheerfully in the darkness;

And under the vine,

Dew of heaven swallowing greedily,

The flower will bloom at night;

Only a golden month

From behind the mountain will quietly rise

And steal a glance at you,

I will fly to you;

I will stay until morning

And silk eyelashes

Dreams of gold evoke ... "

The words fell silent in the distance

After the sound, the sound died.

She looks around...

Unspeakable confusion

In her chest; sadness, fear,

Rapture ardor - nothing in comparison.

All the feelings in her boiled suddenly;

The soul tore its shackles,

She thought it still sounded.

And before the morning dream is desired

Tired eyes closed;

But he revolted her thought

A prophetic and strange dream.

The stranger is foggy and mute,

Beauty shining unearthly,

He bowed to her headboard;

And his gaze with such love,

Looked at her so sadly

As if he regretted it.

That was not an angel of heaven,

Her divine guardian:

Crown of Rainbow Beams

Did not decorate his curls.

That was not hell, a terrible spirit,

Vicious martyr - oh no!

It looked like a clear evening:

Neither day nor night, neither darkness nor light!

"Father, father, leave threats,

Do not scold your own Tamara;

I cry: you see these tears,

They are not the first.

In vain the suitors crowd

Hurry here from distant places ...

There are many brides in Georgia;

And I can't be anyone's wife!

Oh, don't scold me, father.

You yourself noticed: day by day

I wither, the victim of an evil poison!

I'm tormented by the evil spirit

Irresistible dream;

I'm dying, have pity on me!

Give to the sacred abode

Your reckless daughter;

There the Savior will protect me,

I will shed my anguish before him.

I have no fun in the world...

Shrines of the world of autumn,

Let the gloomy cell accept

Like a coffin, in advance of me ... "

And in a secluded monastery

Her family took

And a humble sackcloth

They clothed the young breast.

But also in monastic clothes,

As under a patterned brocade,

All a lawless dream

Her heart was beating like before.

Before the altar, by the light of candles,

In the hours of solemn singing,

Familiar, among prayers,

She often heard speech.

Under the dome of the gloomy temple

A familiar image sometimes

Gliding without a sound or a trace

In a mist of light incense;

He shone softly like a star;

He beckoned and called ... but - where? ..

In the cool between two hills

The holy monastery hid.

Chinar and poplars in rows

He was surrounded - and sometimes,

When the night lay down in the gorges,

Flashed through them, in the windows of the cell,

The lamp of the young sinner.

All around, in the shade of almond trees,

Where a row stands sad crosses,

Silent guardians of the tombs,

Choirs of light birds sang.

They jumped on the stones, made noise

Keys in a cold wave

And under the overhanging rock

Merging friendly in the gorge,

Frosted flowers.

Mountains were visible to the north.

At the brilliance of the morning Aurora,

When the blue smoke

Smoking deep in the valley

And turning to the east

Muetzins are calling to prayer,

And the sonorous voice of the bell

Trembling, awakening the abode;

In a solemn and peaceful hour,

When a Georgian is young

With a long jug for water

The steep descends from the mountain,

Snow chain tops

light purple wall

Drawn in the clear sky

And dressed at sunset

They are a ruddy veil;

And between them, cutting through the clouds,

He stood, all above his head,

Kazbek, the mighty king of the Caucasus,

In a turban and a brocade chasuble.

But, full of criminal thoughts,

Tamara's heart is unavailable

Pure delight. in front of her

The whole world is dressed in a gloomy shadow;

And everything in it is an excuse for torment -

And the morning beam and the darkness of the nights.

There were only sleepy nights

Coolness will cover the earth,

Before the divine icon

She falls in madness

And cries; and in the silence of the night

Her heavy sobbing

The traveler's attention worries;

And he thinks: “That is a mountain spirit

Chained in the cave groans!”

And sensitive straining hearing,

Drives a tired horse...

Full of longing and trembling,

Tamara is often at the window

Sitting alone in thought

And looks into the distance with a diligent eye,

And sighing all day, waiting ...

Someone whispers to her: he will come!

No wonder her dreams caressed,

No wonder he appeared to her,

With eyes full of sadness

And wonderful tenderness of speeches.

I

Lermontov. Daemon. audiobook

Sad Demon, spirit of exile,
He flew over the sinful earth,
And better days of remembrance
A crowd crowded before him;
Those days when in the dwelling of light
He shone, a pure cherub,
When a running comet
A smile of affectionate greetings
Loved to trade with him
When through eternal fogs,
Greedy for knowledge, he followed
Nomadic caravans
In the space of abandoned luminaries;
When he believed and loved
Happy firstborn of creation!
He knew neither malice nor doubt.
And did not threaten his mind
A barren series of centuries...
And many, many... and everything
He did not have the strength to remember!

II

Daemon. Artist M. Vrubel, 1890

Long outcast wandered
In the wilderness of a world without shelter:
After the century, the century fled,
Like a minute a minute
Uniform sequence.
Insignificant dominating the earth,
He sowed evil without pleasure.
Nowhere to your art
He met no resistance
And evil bored him.

III

IV

And in front of him is a different picture
Living colors bloomed:
Luxurious Georgia Valley
Carpet spread out in the distance;
Happy, lush end of the earth!
Pillar-shaped rains.
Ringing running streams
Along the bottom of multi-colored stones,
And bushes of roses, where the nightingales
Sing beauties, unrequited
To the sweet voice of their love;
Chinar spreading canopy,
Thick crowned with ivy.
Caves where the scorching day
Timid deer lurk;
And shine, and life, and the noise of sheets,
Hundred-sounding voices,
The breath of a thousand plants!
And half a day voluptuous heat,
And fragrant dew
Always wet nights
And stars as bright as eyes
Like the look of a young Georgian woman!..
But, apart from cold envy,
Nature did not excite the brilliance
In the exile's barren chest
No new feelings, no new forces;
And all that he saw before him
He despised or hated.

V

Tall house, wide yard
Gray-haired Gudal built himself ...
Works and tears, he cost a lot
Slaves obedient for a long time.
In the morning on the slope of neighboring mountains
Shadows cast from its walls.
Steps are cut into the rock;
They are from the corner tower
They lead to the river, flickering along them,
Covered with white veil,
Princess Tamara young
He goes to Aragva for water.

VI

Always silent on the valleys
I looked from the cliff a gloomy house;
But there is a big feast in it today -
Zurna sounds, and guilt pours -
Gudal betrothed his daughter,
He called the whole family to the feast.
On the carpeted roof
The bride sits between her friends:
Among games and songs their leisure
Passes. distant mountains
The semicircle of the sun is already hidden;
Striking in the palm of your hand,
They sing - and their tambourine
The young bride takes.
And here she is, with one hand
Circling it over your head
Then suddenly it rushes lighter than a bird,
It will stop, look -
And her wet eyes shine
From under an envious eyelash;
That will lead with a black eyebrow,
Then suddenly it leans a little,
And glides on the carpet, floats
Her divine foot;
And she smiles
Full of children's fun.
But a ray of the moon, in unsteady moisture
Slightly playing at times
Hardly compares to that smile
Like life, like youth, alive

VII

I swear by the midnight star
Beam of sunset and east,
Ruler of Persia golden
And not a single king of the earth
I did not kiss such an eye;
Harem Sprinkling Fountain
Never hot sometimes
With its pearly dew
I did not wash such a camp!
Still no one's earthly hand,
Wandering over the sweet brow,
She did not unravel such hair;
Ever since the world lost paradise
I swear she's such a beauty
Under the sun of the south did not bloom.

VIII

She danced for the last time.
Alas! expected in the morning
Her, the heiress of Gudal.
Freedom frisky child
The fate of the sad slave
Fatherland, alien to this day,
And an unknown family.
And often secret doubt
Dark light features;
And all her movements were
So slender, full of expression,
So full of sweet simplicity
What if the Demon, flying,
At that time he looked at her
Then, remembering the former brothers,
He turned away b - and sighed ...

IX

And the Demon saw... For a moment
inexplicable excitement
He suddenly felt in himself.
The dumb soul of his desert
Filled with blessed sound -
And again he comprehended the shrine
Love, kindness and beauty! ..
And long sweet picture
He admired - and dreams
About the former happiness with a long chain,
Like a star behind a star
They rolled before him then.
Bound by an invisible force
He became familiar with the new sadness;
A feeling suddenly spoke in him
once native language.
Was that a sign of rebirth?
He is the words of insidious temptation
I couldn't find it in my mind...
Forget? I did not give oblivion God:
Yes, he would not take oblivion! ..
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

X

Having exhausted a good horse,
To the wedding feast at sunset
The impatient groom hurried.
Aragva light he happily
Reached the green shores.
Under the heavy burden of gifts
Barely, barely crossing
Behind him camels a long line
The road stretches, flickering:
Their bells are ringing.
He himself, the ruler of the Synodal.
Leading a rich caravan.
A dexterous camp is tightened with a belt;
Saber and dagger frame
Shines in the sun; behind the back
The gun with notch notch.
The wind plays with its sleeves
His chuhi - all around she
All trimmed with galloon.
Colored embroidered silk
His saddle; bridle with brushes;
Under it, a dashing horse covered in soap
Priceless suit, golden.
Pet frisky Karabakh
It spins with ears and, full of fear,
Snoring squints with steepness
On the foam of a galloping wave.
Dangerous, narrow is the coastal path!
Cliffs on the left side
To the right is the depth of the rebellious river.
It's too late. At the top of the snow
The blush fades; fog came up...
The caravan stepped up.

XI

And here is the chapel on the road...
Here for a long time rests in God
Some prince, now a saint,
Killed by a vengeful hand.
Since then, for a holiday or for a battle,
Wherever the traveler hurries,
Always fervent prayer
He brought at the chapel;
And that prayer saved
From a Muslim dagger.
But the daring groom despised
The custom of their great-grandfathers.
His insidious dream
The crafty Demon was indignant:
He is in my thoughts, under the darkness of the night,
Kissed the lips of the bride.
Suddenly, two people flashed ahead,
And more - a shot! - what's happened?..
Standing up on ringing stirrups,
Pulling dads on his eyebrows,
The brave prince did not say a word;
A Turkish trunk flashed in his hand,
Whip I click and, like an eagle,
He rushed... and shot again!
And a wild cry and a deaf moan
Rushed into the depths of the valley -
The battle did not last long:
The timid Georgians fled!

XII

XIII

The horse runs faster than the deer.
Snoring and torn, as if to scold;
Then suddenly besiege at a gallop,
Listens to the wind
Widely flaring nostrils;
That, at once hitting the ground
With thorns of sonorous hooves,
Waving his tousled mane,
It flies forward without memory.
It has a silent rider!
He beats on the saddle sometimes,
Leaning on the mane with his head.
He no longer rules the occasions
Putting your feet in the stirrups,
And blood in wide streams
You can see him on the saddle.
Dashing horse, you are the master
Brought out of the battle like an arrow
But an evil Ossetian bullet
Caught him in the dark!

XIV

In the Gudala family weeping and groaning,
People are crowding in the yard:
Whose horse rushed on fire
And fell on the stones at the gate?
Who is this breathless rider?
Kept a trail of swearing anxiety
Wrinkles of a swarthy brow.
In the blood of weapons and dress;
In the last frenzied shake
The hand on the mane froze.
Not for long the young groom,
Bride, your gaze was waiting:
He kept the prince's word,
He rode to the wedding feast...
Alas! but never again
Do not sit on a dashing horse! ..

XV

On the ocean of air
No rudder and no sails
Quietly floating in the fog
Choirs of slender luminaries;
Among the boundless fields
Walking in the sky without a trace
Clouds elusive
Fibrous herds.
The hour of parting, the hour of goodbye
They neither joy nor sorrow;
They have no desire in the future
And don't feel sorry for the past.
On the day of agonizing misfortune
You only remember them;
Be to the earth without participation
And as careless as they are!"

"Only the night with its cover
The tops of the Caucasus will overshadow
Only the world, with a magic word
Bewitched, shut up;
Only the wind over the rock
Will move the withered grass,
And the bird hidden in it
Flutters more cheerfully in the darkness;
And under the vine,
Dew of heaven swallowing greedily,
The flower will bloom at night;
Only a golden month
From behind the mountain will quietly rise
And steal a glance at you,
I will fly to you;
I will stay until morning
And silk eyelashes
Dreams of gold evoke ... "

XVI

The words fell silent in the distance
After the sound, the sound died.
She jumps up and looks around...
Unspeakable confusion
In her chest; sadness, fear,
Rapture ardor - nothing in comparison.
All the feelings in her boiled suddenly;
The soul tore its shackles,
Fire ran through my veins
And this voice is wonderfully new,
She thought it still sounded.
And before the morning dream is desired
Tired eyes closed;
But he revolted her thought
A prophetic and strange dream.
The stranger is foggy and mute,
Beauty shining unearthly,
He bowed to her headboard;
And his gaze with such love,
Looked at her so sadly
As if he regretted it.
It was not a heavenly angel.
Her divine guardian:
Crown of Rainbow Beams
Did not decorate his curls.
That was not hell, a terrible spirit,
Vicious martyr - oh no!
It looked like a clear evening:
Neither day nor night, neither darkness nor light!

Part II

I

"Father, father, leave threats,
Do not scold your own Tamara;
I cry: you see these tears,
They are not the first.
In vain the suitors crowd
Hurry here from distant places...
There are many brides in Georgia;
And I can't be anyone's wife!
Oh, don't scold me, father.
You yourself noticed: day by day
I wither, the victim of an evil poison!
I'm tormented by the evil spirit
Irresistible dream;
I'm dying, have pity on me!
Give to the sacred abode
Your reckless daughter;
A savior will protect me there,
I will shed my anguish before him.
I have no fun in the world...
Shrines of the world of autumn,
Let the gloomy cell accept
Like a coffin, in advance of me ... "

II

And in a secluded monastery
Her family took
And a humble sackcloth
They clothed the young breast.
But also in monastic clothes,
As under a patterned brocade,
All a lawless dream
Her heart was beating like before.
Before the altar, by the light of candles,
In the hours of solemn singing,
Familiar, among prayers,
She often heard speech.
Under the dome of the gloomy temple
A familiar image sometimes
Gliding without a sound or a trace
In a mist of light incense;
He shone softly like a star;
He beckoned and called ... but - where? ..

III

In the cool between two hills
The holy monastery hid.
Chinar and poplars in rows
He was surrounded - and sometimes,
When the night lay down in the gorge,
Flashed through them, in the windows of the cell,
The lamp of the young sinner.
All around, in the shade of almond trees,
Where a row stands sad crosses,
Silent guardians of the tombs;
Choirs of light birds sang.
They jumped on the stones, made noise
Keys in a cold wave
And under the overhanging rock
Merging friendly in the gorge,
Rolled on, between the bushes,
Frosted flowers.

IV

Mountains were visible to the north.
At the brilliance of the morning Aurora,
When the blue smoke
Smoking deep in the valley
And turning to the east
Muetzins are calling to prayer,
And the sonorous voice of the bell
Trembling, awakening the abode;
In a solemn and peaceful hour,
When a Georgian is young
With a long jug for water
The steep descends from the mountain,
Snow chain tops
light purple wall
Drawn in the clear sky
And dressed at sunset
They are a ruddy veil;
And between them, cutting through the clouds,
He stood, all above his head,
Kazbek, the mighty king of the Caucasus,
In turban and chasuble brocade.

V

But, full of criminal thoughts,
Tamara's heart is unavailable
Pure delight. in front of her
The whole world is dressed in a gloomy shadow;
And everything in it is an excuse for torment -
And the morning beam and the darkness of the nights.
It used to be only sleepy nights
Coolness will cover the earth,
Before the divine icon
She falls into madness
And cries; and in the silence of the night
Her heavy sobbing
The traveler's attention worries;
And he thinks: "That is a mountain spirit
Chained in the cave groans!"
And sensitive straining hearing,
Drives a tired horse.

VI

Full of longing and trembling,
Tamara is often at the window
Sitting alone in thought
And looks into the distance with a diligent eye,
And the whole day, sighing, waiting ...
Someone whispers to her: he will come!
No wonder dreams caressed her.
No wonder he appeared to her.
With eyes full of sadness
And wonderful tenderness of speeches.
For many days she languishes,
She doesn't know why;
Does he want to pray to the saints -
And the heart prays to him;
Tired of the constant struggle
Will he bow down on the bed of sleep:
The pillow burns, she is stuffy, scared,
And all, jumping up, she trembles;
Her chest and shoulders are burning,
No strength to breathe, fog in the eyes,
Embrace eagerly looking for a meeting,
Kisses melt on the lips ...
. . . . . . . . .

VII

Evening haze airy cover
Already dressed the hills of Georgia.
Habit sweet obedient.
The Demon flew to the monastery.
But for a long, long time he did not dare
Shrine of Peaceful Shelter
Violate. And there was a minute
When he seemed ready
Leave intent cruel.
Thoughtful against the high wall
He wanders: from his steps
Without wind, a leaf trembles in the shade.
He looked up: her window,
Illuminated by a lamp, shines;
She's been waiting for someone!
And in the midst of the general silence
Chingura slender rattling
And the sounds of the song resounded;
And those sounds flowed, flowed,
Like tears, measured one after another;
And this song was tender
As if for the earth she
Was stacked in the sky!
Is it an angel with a forgotten friend
I wanted to see you again
Stealthily flew here
And he sang about the past,
To alleviate his pain?
The anguish of love, its excitement
Comprehended the Demon for the first time;
He wants to leave in fear...
His wing doesn't move!
And, miracle! from faded eyes
A heavy tear rolls...
Until now near that cell
Through the burnt stone is visible
Tears hot as a flame
Inhuman tear!..

VIII

And he enters, ready to love,
With a heart open to goodness,
And he thinks that a new life
The desired time has come.
A vague thrill of anticipation
Silent fear of the unknown
Like a first date
Confessed with a proud soul.
That was an evil omen!
He enters, looks - in front of him
Messenger of heaven, cherub,
Guardian of the beautiful sinner,
Standing with a shining brow
And from the enemy with a clear smile
He painted her with a wing;
And a ray of divine light
Suddenly blinded by an unclean gaze,
And instead of a sweet hello
There was a heavy reproach:

IX

"The spirit is restless, the spirit is vicious.
Who called you in the midnight darkness?
Your fans are not here
Evil has not breathed here until now;
To my love, to my shrine
Do not lay a criminal trail.
Who called you?"
In response to him
The evil spirit chuckled slyly;
His eyes flushed with jealousy;
And again in his soul woke up
Poison of ancient hatred.
"She's mine!" he said menacingly, -
Leave her, she's mine!
You, protector, appeared late,
And she, like me, you're not a judge.
With a heart full of pride
I have set my seal;
Your shrine is no longer here
Here I own and love!"
And the angel with sad eyes
Looked at the poor victim
And slowly flapping your wings
I drowned in the ether of the sky.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

X

Tamara and Demon. Artist M. Vrubel, 1890

Tamara
ABOUT! who are you? your speech is dangerous!
Did hell or heaven send you to me?
What do you want?..

Daemon
You are beautiful!

Tamara
But say who are you? answer...

Daemon
I am the one who listened
You are in the midnight silence
Whose thought whispered to your soul,
Whose sadness did you vaguely guess,
Whose image I saw in a dream.
I am the one whose gaze destroys hope;
I am the one no one loves;
I am the scourge of my earthly slaves,
I am the king of knowledge and freedom,
I am the enemy of heaven, I am the evil of nature,
And, you see, I am at your feet!
I brought you tenderness
Silent love prayer
Earthly first torment
And my first tears.
ABOUT! listen - out of regret!
Me good and heaven
You could return with a word.
Your love with a holy cover
Dressed, I would appear there.
Like a new angel in a new brilliance;
ABOUT! just listen, please, I
I am your slave - I love you!
As soon as I saw you -
And secretly suddenly hated
Immortality and my power.
I envied involuntarily
Incomplete earthly joy;
Not to live like you, it hurt me
And it's scary - it's different to live with you.
In a bloodless heart, an unexpected ray
Warmed up again,
And sadness at the bottom of an old wound
She moved like a snake.
What is this eternity without you?
My dominion is infinity?
Empty sounding words
A vast temple - without a deity!

Tamara
Leave me, O evil spirit!
Shut up, I don't trust the enemy...
Creator... Alas! I can't
Pray... deadly poison
My weakening mind is embraced!
Listen, you will ruin me;
Your words are fire and poison...
Tell me why you love me!

Daemon
Why, beauty? Alas,
I don't know!.. Full of new life,
From my criminal head
I proudly took off the crown of thorns,
I threw all the past into dust:
My heaven, my hell in your eyes.
I love you with an unearthly passion,
How can you not love
With all rapture, with all power
Immortal thoughts and dreams.
In my soul, from the beginning of the world,
Your image has been printed
He hovered in front of me
In the deserts of eternal ether.
For a long time disturbing my thought,
The name sounded sweet to me;
In the days of bliss me in paradise
You were missing one.
ABOUT! if you could understand
What a bitter languor
All my life, centuries without separation
And enjoy and suffer
Do not expect praise for evil,
No reward for good;
Live for yourself, miss yourself
And this eternal struggle
No celebration, no reconciliation!
Always regret and not wish
Know everything, feel everything, see everything,
Try to hate everything
And despise everything in the world! ..
Only God's curse
Fulfilled from the same day
Nature's hot embrace
Forever cool for me;
The space was blue before me;
I saw the wedding dress
Luminary, familiar to me for a long time ...
They flowed in crowns of gold;
But what? former brother
None recognized.
Exiles like themselves
I called out in desperation.
But words and faces and evil eyes,
Alas! I didn't recognize myself.
And in fear I, flapping my wings,
Rushed - but where? For what?
I don't know... old friends
I was rejected; like eden,
The world has become deaf and dumb for me.
At the free whim of the current
So damaged rook
No sails and no rudder
Floats, not knowing the destination;
So early in the morning
A fragment of a thundercloud,
In the azure height blackening,
Alone, not daring to stick anywhere,
Flies without a goal and a trace,
God knows where and where!
And I ruled people for a short time.
Taught them sin for a short time,
All noble dishonored,
And he blasphemed everything beautiful;
Not long... the flame of pure faith
Easily forever I poured into them ...
But were my labors worth it?
Only fools and hypocrites?
And I hid in the gorges of the mountains;
And began to wander like a meteor,
In the deep darkness of midnight...
And the lonely traveler rushed,
Deceived by a close flame,
And falling into the abyss with a horse,
I called in vain and the trail is bloody
Behind him twisted along the steepness ...
But malice is gloomy fun
I didn't like it for long!
In the fight against a mighty hurricane,
How often, raising the ashes,
Dressed in lightning and mist,
I ran noisily in the clouds,
So that in the crowd of rebellious elements
Silence the murmur of the heart,
Save yourself from the inevitable thought
And forget the unforgettable!
What a tale of painful deprivation,
The labors and troubles of the human crowd
To come, past generations,
Before one minute
My unacknowledged torment?
What people? what is their life and work?
They have passed, they will pass...
There is hope, I am waiting for the right court:
He can forgive, even condemn!
My sadness is here forever.
And there will be no end to her, like me;
And do not take a nap in her grave!
She fawns like a snake
It burns and splashes like a flame,
That crushes my thought, like a stone I
Hopes of the dead and passions
Invincible mausoleum!

Tamara
Why should I know your sorrow
Why are you complaining to me?
You have sinned...

Daemon
Is it against you?

Tamara
We can be heard!

Daemon
We are alone.

Tamara
And God!

Daemon
They don't look at us:
He is busy with heaven, not earth!

Tamara
And the punishment, the torment of hell?

Daemon
So what? You will be there with me!

Tamara
Whoever you are, my random friend, -
Lost peace forever
Involuntarily, with the joy of mystery,
Sufferer, I hear you.
But if your speech is sly,
But if you're a deceit...
ABOUT! spare me! What glory?
What is my soul to you?
Am I dearer to the sky
Everyone you didn't see?
They, alas! beautiful too;
Like here, their virgin bed
Not crumpled by a mortal hand...
No! give me a fatal oath ...
Tell me - you see: I yearn;
You see women's dreams!
You involuntarily caress the fear in your soul ...
But you understood everything, you know everything -
And, of course, you will take pity!
Swear to me... from evil possessions
Renounce now vow.
Really no oaths, no promises
Are there no more invincibles? ..

Daemon
I swear on the first day of creation
I swear on his last day
I swear on the shame of crime
And eternal truth triumph.
I swear to fall by bitter flour,
Victory by a short dream;
I swear on a date with you
And again threatening separation.
I swear by the host of spirits,
The fate of the brothers subject to me,
With swords of impassive angels.
My unsleeping enemies;
I swear by heaven and hell
Earthly shrine and you
I swear by your last look
Your first tear
Your gentle lips with breath,
A wave of silk curls
I swear by bliss and suffering.
I swear on my love:
I renounced the old revenge
I renounced proud thoughts;
From now on, the poison of insidious flattery
Nothing disturbs the mind;
I want to reconcile with the sky
I want to love, I want to pray.
I want to believe good.
Wipe away with a tear of repentance
I am on a forehead worthy of you,
Traces of heavenly fire -
And the world in ignorance is calm
Let it bloom without me!
ABOUT! believe me: I'm alone until now
You comprehended and appreciated:
Choosing you as my shrine
I have placed power at your feet.
I'm waiting for your love as a gift,
And I will give you eternity in a moment;
In love, as in malice, believe, Tamara,
I am immutable and great.
I am you, free son of ether,
I'll take it to the superstellar regions;
And you will be the queen of the world
My first friend
Without regret, without participation
You will look at the ground
Where there is no true happiness
No lasting beauty
Where there are only crimes and executions,
Where petty passions only live;
Where they do not know how without fear
Neither hate nor love.
Do you not know what is
People momentary love?
The excitement of the blood is young, -
But the days run and the blood runs cold!
Who can resist separation
The temptation of a new beauty
Against fatigue and boredom
And the willfulness of dreams?
No! not you, my friend,
Find out, appointed by fate
Wither silently in a tight circle
Jealous rudeness slave,
Among the cowardly and cold,
False friends and enemies
Fear and fruitless hopes,
Empty and painful labors!
Sad behind the high wall
You will not die without passions,
Among the prayers, equally far
From god and people.
Oh no, beautiful creature
You are assigned to something else;
Other suffering awaits you.
Other delights depth;
Leave your old desires
And the miserable light of his fate:
The abyss of proud knowledge
In return, I will open it for you.
A crowd of my office spirits
I will bring you to your feet;
Handmaidens of light and magical
To you, beauty, I will give;
And for you from the eastern star
I will pluck a golden crown;
I'll take the midnight dew from the flowers;
I will put him to sleep with that dew;
A beam of ruddy sunset
Your camp, like a ribbon, I will wrap,
With a breath of pure fragrance
I will drink the surrounding air;
All the time wonderful game
I will cherish your hearing;
I will build magnificent halls
From turquoise and amber;
I will sink to the bottom of the sea
I will fly beyond the clouds
I will give you everything, everything earthly -
Love me!..

XI

And he's a little
Touched with hot lips
Her trembling lips;
Temptation full speeches
He answered her prayers.
A mighty gaze gazed into her eyes!
He burned her. In the darkness of the night
Above her, he sparkled,
Irresistible as a dagger.
Alas! the evil spirit triumphed!
The deadly poison of his kiss
Instantly penetrated into her chest.
Anguished, terrible scream
Night revolted the silence.
It was everything: love, suffering.
Rebuke with a last plea
And a hopeless goodbye
Farewell to young life.

XII

At that time the midnight watchman
One around the wall is steep
Quietly completing the appointed path.
Wandered with a cast-iron board,
And near the cell of the young virgin
He tamed his measured step
And a hand over a cast iron board,
Confused, he stopped.
And through the surrounding silence,
He thought he heard
Two mouths consonant kiss,
A momentary cry and a faint moan.
And unholy doubt
Penetrated into the heart of the old man ...
But another moment passed
And everything was quiet; from afar
Just a breath of wind
The murmuring of the leaves brought
Yes, with a dark coast sadly
The mountain river whispered.
Saint's saint's canon
He hurries to read in fear,
So that the obsession of an evil spirit
Drive away from sinful thought;
Crosses with trembling fingers
Dream agitated chest
And silently with quick steps
The regular one continues on.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

XIII

Like a peri sleeping sweetheart
She lay in her coffin
Whiter and cleaner bedspreads
There was a languid color of her brow.
Forever lowered eyelashes ...
But who would, oh heaven! didn't say
That the gaze below them only dozed
And, wonderful, just expected
Or a kiss, or dennitsa?
But it's useless daylight beam
Sliding over them with a golden stream,
In vain they are in mute sadness
Kissing lips...
No! death eternal seal
Nothing can break it!

XIV

Never been in the days of fun
So colorful and rich
Tamara's festive outfit.
Flowers of the native gorge
(So the ancient requires the rite)
They pour their fragrance over her
And, squeezed by a dead hand.
How to say goodbye to the earth!
And nothing in her face
Didn't hint at the end
In the heat of passion and ecstasy;
And were all her features
Filled with that beauty
Like marble, alien expression.
Deprived of feeling and mind,
Mysterious as death itself.
A strange smile froze
Flickering across her lips.
Talked about a lot of sad things
She attentive eyes:
There was cold contempt in her
Soul ready to bloom
The last thought expression,
Forgive the soundless earth.
A vain reflection of the life of the past,
She was even deader
Still more hopeless for the heart
Forever faded eyes.
So at the hour of the solemn sunset,
When, melted in a sea of gold,
The chariot of the day has already disappeared,
Snow of the Caucasus, for a moment
The tide is ruddy,
They shine in the dark distance.
But this beam is half alive
In the desert you will not meet a reflection,
And it won't light anyone's path
From its icy peak!..

XV

A crowd of neighbors and relatives
Already gathered in a sad way.
Tormenting gray curls,
Silently hitting the chest
Goodal sits down for the last time
On a white-maned horse
And the train started moving. Three days.
Three nights their journey will last:
Between the old grandfather's bones
The shelter of the deceased was dug for her.
One of the forefathers of Gudal,
Robber of wanderers and villages,
When sickness took hold of him
And the hour of repentance has come
Sins past in redemption
He promised to build a church
On top of the granite rocks
Where only blizzards hear singing,
Where only the kite flew.
And soon between the snows of Kazbek
A lonely temple has risen
And the bones of an evil man
We calmed down there again;
And turned into a graveyard
Rock native to the clouds:
Like closer to heaven
Warmer posthumous dwelling? ..
As if further from people
The last dream will not be indignant ...
In vain! the dead won't dream
No sadness, no joy of the past days.

XVI

In the space of blue ether
One of the angels of the saints
Flying on golden wings
And a sinful soul from the world
He carried in his arms.
And sweet speech of hope
Dispelled her doubts
And a trace of misconduct and suffering
He washed away her tears.
From afar the sounds of paradise
They reached them - when suddenly,
Free path crossing,
An infernal spirit rose up from the abyss.
He was powerful, like a noisy whirlwind,
Shined like lightning,
And proudly in insane insolence
He says: "She's mine!"

She clung to her protective chest,
Prayer drowned out the horror,
Tamara sinful soul -
The fate of the future was decided
Again he stood before her,
But, God! - who would recognize him?
With what an evil look he looked,
How full of deadly poison
Enmity that knows no end -
And breathed grave cold
From a motionless face.
"Disappear, gloomy spirit of doubt! -
The heavenly messenger replied:
You have triumphed enough;
But the hour of judgment has now come -
And God's decision!
The days of testing are over;
With the clothes of the mortal earth
The shackles of evil fell from her.
Find out! we have been waiting for it for a long time!
Her soul was one of those
Whose life is one moment
unbearable pain,
Unattainable pleasures:
Creator from the best ether
Weaved their living strings,
They are not made for the world
And the world was not created for them!
Redeemed at the price of cruel
She has her doubts...
She suffered and loved -
And heaven opened for love!"

And the angel with stern eyes
Looked at the tempter
And with joyful flapping of wings,
I drowned in the radiance of the sky.
And cursed Demon defeated
Your crazy dreams
And again he remained, arrogant,
Alone, as before, in the universe
Without hope and love!

_________________

On the slope of a stone mountain
Above the Koishaur valley
Still standing to this day
The teeth are the ruins of an old one.
Stories scary for children
There are still stories about them...
Like a ghost, a silent monument,
Witness those magical days.
Blackens between the trees.
The village crumbled below.
The earth blossoms and turns green;
And voices discordant rumble
Gets lost and caravans
They go, ringing, from afar,
And, plunging through the mists,
The river sparkles and foams.
And life forever young.
Coolness, sun and spring
Nature is joking,
Like a carefree child.

But sad is the castle that has served
Years in turn
Like a poor old man who survived
Friends and lovely family.
And just waiting for the moon to rise
Its invisible inhabitants:
Then they have a holiday and freedom!
Buzzing, running in all directions.
Gray-haired spider, new hermit,
Spins the webs of its warp;
Green lizard family
Plays merrily on the roof;
And a wary snake
Creeps out of a dark hole
On the slab of the old porch,
Then suddenly it will fit into three rings,
That will lie in a long strip
And shines like a damask sword,
Forgotten in the field of old sich,
Unnecessary to the fallen hero!..
Everything is wild; there are no traces anywhere
Years gone by: the hand of the ages
Diligently, swept them away for a long time,
And don't remember anything
About the glorious name of Gudala,
Oh, his dear daughter!

But the church is on a steep peak,
Where are the bones taken by their earth,
We keep the power of the saint,
It is still visible between the clouds.
And at her gate stand
On guard are black granites,
Covered with cloaks of snow;
And on their chest instead of armor
The eternal ice is burning.
Falls sleepy bulks
From the ledges, like waterfalls,
Frost seized suddenly
They hang around frowning.
And there the blizzard walks on patrol,
Blowing dust off gray walls
That song starts a long one,
That calls out to sentries;
Hearing news in the distance
About a wonderful temple, in that country,
There are only clouds from the east
The crowd rush to worship;
But over a family of tombstones
Nobody is sad for a long time.
Rock of the gloomy Kazbek
Prey greedily guards,
And the eternal murmur of man
Their eternal peace will not disturb.