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“The tale of the golden rooster” by Alexander Pushkin 🇷🇺 (6 Jun 179910 Feb 1837)
Translated from the Russian by Vladimir Gurvich
In a kingdom, far away
(More precisely, I can’t say)
King Don, once upon a time,
Ruled with fame, and in the prime
Of his glory, missed no chance
To hit his neighbors, and not once
Waged victorious bloody war.
Yet, with years, he would prefer
Quiet and peaceful life. But then,
In their turn, upon th’old man,
Th’ neighbors took their cruel revenge
And inflicted severe damage
On the kingdom. To defend
The large country every end
Poor king Don was forced to keep
A strong army. Without sleep,
Generals did watch and wait,
Yet, they always were too late:
Would expect from south, and
From the east invaders went;
Managed there, to only see
New attackers from the sea.
What a life in such vexation!
Overwhelmed with indignation,
Poor king Don just wept in rage.
Finally, he found a sage
(A castrate, extremely wise)
And begged him for some advise.
The astrologer produced
From his sack a golden rooster
Saying to the ruler, “Sire,
Set this rooster on a spire
And he will become a smart,
Most reliable border guard;
Watching all your lands around,
He will not produce a sound,
While ’tis quiet, but as soon as
Th’ border is crossed by enemies,
Evil people will invade it,
Or some trouble uninvited,
Th’ rooster will no longer rest;
He will raise his crimson crest,
Spread his wings, and loudly crow;
And directions also show,
Turning to the dangerous place.”
Well, king Don with a good grace
Thanks him, offers heaps of gold,
And, at last, suggests, “Behold!
Since you did me a good turn,
I’ll be generous in return,
And shall happily fulfill
The first your subsequent will.”
Right away, the zealous cock
On his spire got dawn to work.
Wherever a danger is hardly seen,
Both his eyes, extremely keen,
He directs towards this side
Shakes his wings and with all might
Crows, “cock-a-doodle-doo!
Reign without much to do!”
And all neighbors quieted down
Caring of their own crowns:
Such a vigorous reflection
They received in each direction.
A year and another passed,
Th’ rooster is mute … until, at last,
Wakes the city with the noise,
In extremely loud voice.
“King! Get up! Be people’s father!”
Cry the generals. “Don’t bother!
What ’s the matter?!” With a yawn
Answers sleepily king Don.
“Well, you just look out, Sire!
Th’ rooster is crying on his spire,
Facing east, we’re all in fear.”
And indeed, the king can hear
From the window an’awful roar.
“Bums! What are you waiting for?!
In no time, you have to sound
The alarm. All horsemen, mount!”
To the east, the troops have gone
Leaded by the elder son.
And the rooster did calm down,
So the king, took off his crown,
Went to sleep. In eight days, yet,
No news from troops they get,
No message. Suddenly then
Th’ rooster starts to cry again,
Giving a terrible alarm.
King equips another army
And directs his younger son
To help out the elder one.
For a while, the rooster ’s mute
Yet, again there’re no news
For another eight days. Then,
He begins to crow again,
Facing east, from his high steeple.
King conscripts remaining people
Placing himself at the head,
Doubting, what is good of that.
Troops are marching day and night
And the soldiers ’re getting tired.
No field camp, or burial mound,
Or a battle place around
They can find. “Well, what a wonder?!”,
Thinks king Don. Or did we wander
Out of the way? At last,
When eight days ’ve already passed,
In high mountains they see
A luxurious silk marquee.
Everything is mute, around
The marquee, on bloody ground
The whole army slaughtered lies.
King Don can’t believe his eyes
Watching a heart-ending sight:
Clearly, after a cruel fight
In the fierce single combat
Both his sons are laying dead,
Stabbed each one by brother’s sword.
First, king Don couldn’t say a word,
Then, he wailed, “Oh, my dear sons!
Woe is me! In a net at once
Caught both falcons, and I hear
My own death is creeping here.”
After him, whole army wails,
Even mountains and valleys
Are shaken. Suddenly the tent
Did sweep open, and out went,
The damsel, Shemakha’s queen.
Such a beauty was ne’er seen.
Shining like the morning dawn,
She met th’ king, in her gold crown.
As a’night bird before the Sun,
In front of her, he turned to stone.
Stared at her black-coal eye,
And forgot his sons did die.
She smiled, bowed, and they went,
Arm in arm, to her silk tent.
At the table he was seated,
With delicious viands treated,
For the sweetest rest is laid
To a bed of gold brocade.
And precisely, the whole week,
Obedient to her and meek,
Charmed, with his neck humbly bent,
He was feasting in her tent.
Finally, the time has come
For the return journey home,
With the army and new queen.
For two weeks king wasn’t seen,
And the masses were not able
Always tell a fact from fable.
Perished troops, and sons, and marriage …
Rumors ran ahead of th’ carriage.
Then, luxurious and proud,
It was met by th’ cheering crowd
At the city gates. The king
Welcomes all his subjects, being
In good spirits … Straight ahead,
In a white saracenic hat,
Is waiting his old friend, the sage,
Already in advanced age,
Gray as a swan. Don cries, “Come here!
How are you? What’s up, my dear?
What d’you wish?” The old man says,
“Sire, now you’ll pay me, yes.
You would square up with me if
Give your damsel as a gift.”
Don extremely was surprised;
Even his eyebrows raised.
“Are you crazy?!”, asked the king.
“How dare you even think?!
Well, I promised … Yes, I did.
Your requests, howe’er, exceed
Any bounds. And what for
Could you, possibly, need her?!
Over this, don’t lose your sleep,
And my promise I will keep.
Any reasonable task …
For example, you may ask
For some gold, or a wine cellar,
Or the rank of Lord Chancellor, …
Half-a-kingdom, if you please!”
“No, I do not want all these.
Under our contract, Sire,
Give just her, as I require”,
Answers solidly the sage.
King spat out, “At your age,
Such a wish! I say again,
Do not tease yourself in vain.
You will get just nothing then.
Guards, pool off this wimp old man!”
Th’ poor guy tried to argue, yet,
His big last mistake was that.
(It is not a clever thing
To start wrangling with a king.)
Don just hit him in his brow
With th’ warder, he fall down
And gave up the ghost. Whole city
Shuddered. Yet, there was no pity
Shown by the damsel. She
Said just ha-ha and tee-hee,
Not much scared by the sin,
And although Don was in
Some distress, but he only
Smiled to her complaisantly.
Finally, their coach entered
The square at the city center.
Then, the air at once resounded
With a ringing, people around
At the spire together looked,
Where the rooster suddenly took
Wing and sat down right on
The very crown of king Don,
Then pecked slightly the bald crown,
The same moment Don fall down
From the coach, once he sighed,
And immediately died.
And the queen has disappeared
As if she was never here.
This tale is a fib, and yet,
Lessons can be learned from that.