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STORY

DEDICATION

n. n. Rajewski

Accept with a smile, my friend,
Muses free offerings:
I dedicated you banished lyre singing
And inspired their leisure.
When I died, innocent, cheerless,
And whisper slanders listened to all sides,
When the dagger of betrayal hladny,
When love heavy sleep
I tortured and dead,
I am near you to find more serenity;
I heart a rest - we loved each other:
And the storm ferocity me tired,
I'm in a peaceful marina gods blessed.
In the days of sad separation
My thoughtful sounds
Reminded me of the Caucasus,
Where cloudy Besht, (1) dignified hermit,
villages (2) and fields ruler domed,
Was new to me Parnas.
Forget whether his flinty peaks,
rattlesnakes keys, withered plains,
sultry desert, end, Where are you with me
Shared showers mladye Impressions;
Where to scour the mountains warlike robbery,
And the wild genius of inspiration
It is hidden in the silence of the deaf?
You will find here memories,
May be, cherished days,
Protivurechiya passions,
dream friends, acquaintances suffering
And the secret voice of my soul.
We walked in life Rozno: resting arms
barely, barely blossomed and after his father's hero
In the field of blood, under clouds of arrows foes,
baby-elect, you proudly flew.
Fatherland you caressed tenderly,
How sweet sacrifice, as a true color of hope.
I learned early in grief, befall was Gonen;
I am a victim of slander and vengeful ignorant;
But the heart of strengthening freedom and patience,
I waited for better days blithely;
And the happiness of my friends
It was sweet consolation.

ЧАСТЬ ПЕРВАЯ

In the village, on their doorsteps,
Circassians are sitting idle.
The sons of the Caucasus say
About abusive, disastrous alarms,
On the beauty of their horses,
About enjoying the wild bliss;
Remembers the old days
compelling raids,
Artful deceptions Uzdenov, (3)
Beats checkers (4) their cruel,
And Accuracy inevitable arrows,
And the ashes of ruined villages,
And caresses prisoners chernookih.

Flowing conversation in silence;
The moon floats in the night mist;
And suddenly before them on horseback
Circassian. It quickly to lasso
Young plennik clods.
"That Russian!"- cried a predator.
Aul shouting him to flee
fierce crowd;
But captive hladny and dumb,
With disfigured head,
As a corpse, remained unmoved.
Face the enemy can not see it,
Threats and screams he hears;
Above him a mortal dream fly
And cold pernicious breath.

For a long time the young prisoner
Lying in oblivion heavy.
Already at noon on his head
Burned in a blaze of cheerful;
And the life of the spirit awakened in him,
Muffled groan was heard from the lips of,
Warmed by sunbeam,
Unhappy quietly lifted.
Circle encircles weak eyes ...
And he sees: towering mountains
Above him vozdvyhnulas community,
Nest robber tribes,
Circassian liberties fence.
Vospomnil young man his prisoner,
How terrible sleep alarm,
And hears: thundered suddenly
His chained feet ...
Everything, All I said a terrible sound;
Eclipsed in front of him nature.
forgive, sacred freedom!
he is a slave.
According cottage (5) is
He's a prickly fence.
Circassians in the field, no supervision,
In the empty village still silent.
Before him the desert plains
Lay the green veil;
There's a ridge of hills stretch
uniform tops;
Between them secluded path
In the distance is lost gloomy:
I plennik young breasts
Heavy were moved by a thought ...

In Russia's further path leads,
To the country, where fiery Mladost
He proudly started without worries;
Where he first learned the joy,
Where a lot of cute love,
Where he embraced the terrible suffering,
Where vibrant life ruined
hope, joy and desire,
And the best days of recollection
The withered heart made.

People and light tasted it,
He knew the price wrong life.
In the hearts of friends having found treason,
The dreams of love crazy dream,
Bored with the victim to be familiar
It has long been despised fuss,
And hostility bilingual,
And simpleminded slander,
light Renegade, friend of nature,
He left limit native
And in the distant edge of the fly
With a cheerful ghost of freedom.

freedom! he is the one you
Still looking at the deserted world.
Passions feelings exterminate,
Oholodev to dreams and to the lyre,
With excitement, he listened to the song,
Odushevlennыe you,
And with faith, ardor molyboyu
Your proud idol embraced.

It is finished ... the purpose of Hope
He sees not nothing in the world.
And you, the last of dream,
And you hid from him.
he is a slave. Leaning head on a stone,
He is waiting, to a gloomy dawn
Sad life extinguished the flame,
And longs for the passage grave.

Oh, the sun fades behind the mountains;
In the distance there was a noisy hum;
From the fields to the village people go,
Flashing light braids.
came. The houses were lit fires,
Gradually the noise discordant
Umolknul; all in Nightshade
Embrace negoyu calm;
Away sparkling mountain spring,
Escaping from the rock rapids;
Dressed shroud of clouds
Caucasian dormant tops ...
but who, in the moonlight,
Among the deep silence
is, stealth treading?
I woke Russian. Before him,
Greetings gentle and dumb,
Circassian worth mladaya.
On the maiden he watches silently
and thoughts: it is a false dream,
Tired of feeling empty game.
Slightly illuminated by the moon,
With a smile of pity disconcerting
elbows prekloniv, she is
To his lips mare (6) chill
Podnosyt quiet hand.
But he forgot vessel healing;
He catches the greedy soul
Pleasant speech sound magic
And the eyes of the young maiden.
He does not understand the alien words;
But touching eyes, cheeks glow,
But gentle voice says:
live! and revived a prisoner.
And he, collect remainder forces,
Velenje sweet submissive,
I stood up - and the cup beneficial
Languor quench thirst.
Then again he leaned on the stone
weighed down by the head,
But all to Circassian Mlada
Extinguished his gaze sought.
And for a long time, long before it
She is, thoughtful, sat;
How would participation dumb
To comfort the prisoner wanted;
Mouth involuntarily each hour
With the speech started open;
she sighed, and more than once
Eyes filled with tears.

For days the days passed like a shadow.
In the forest, Bound, the herd
Holds captive every day.
Caves moist coolness
It hides in the summer heat;
When the moon srebristoy horn
Flash for the gloomy mountain,
Circassian, shady path,
Brings prisoner wine,
Kumyspek, hives and honeycombs fragrant,
And snow-white millet;
Since it shares the secret supper;
He maketh gentle eyes;
With unclear rechiyu merges
The eyes and the characters talk;
Sings his songs and mountains,
And Georgia lyrics happy, (7)
And memory impatient
It transmits a foreign language.
First time virgin soul
She loved, I knew happiness;
But the life of a young Russian
Long lost sensuality.
He could not have the heart to answer
love infant, open -
May be, forgotten dream of love
Afraid he remembers.

Do not suddenly fade our Mladost,
Do not suddenly throw us delight,
And unexpected joy
Yet we do not embrace again:
but you, live impressions,
First love,
Heavenly flame of rapture,
You do not arrive again.

It seemed, prisoner beznadezhnыy
To dull life accustomed.
Tosca likes, heat rebellious
In his heart he deeply concealed.
Eked out between the gloomy rocks,
In the early hours, morning chill,
Fix our eyes he is curious
To distant masses
Sedykh, rosy, blue mountains.
magnificent paintings!
Thrones of eternal snow,
Seemed displeased their tops
Motionless chain clouds,
And in their circle-headed colossus,
The crown of shining ice,
Elbrus is a huge, stately,
He showed white against a blue sky. (8)
When, merging with a dull roar,
Baptist storms, thunder,
How often a prisoner of aul
Real of the above Siddel!
At his feet were steaming clouds,
In the steppe fluttering remains volatile;
Already shelter among the rocks
Elen was looking scared;
Eagles from the cliffs rises
And in heaven echoed;
noise herds, lowing herds
Oh, voice muffled by the storm ...
And suddenly in the valleys rain and hail
From the clouds through the lightning erupted;
Wave steepness swarm,
Moving stones secular,
Flowing streams of rain -
A prisoner, a height of a mountain,
One, by thunderous tuchey,
solar return waiting,
Nedosyahaemыy storm,
And the storm feeble howl
With some gladly listened.

But the Europeans all the attention
People attracted to this wonderful.
Between Highlanders prisoner watching
s faith, mores, training,
I loved the simplicity of their lives,
Hospitality, thirst for battle,
Movements of free speed,
And the ease of feet, and the power of hands;
He was looking for whole hours,
Sometimes agile Circassian,
wide steppe, the mountains,
The shaggy cap, in a black cloak,
By bending the bow, of stirrups
Foot resting slim,
He flew on the horse will,
Accustomed to the pre-war.
He admired the beauty
Clothing abusive and easy.
Circassian weapon obveshen;
He was proud of him, they comforted;
He wore armor, pischal, quiver,
Kuban onions, dagger, arkan
I palmerworm, eternal girlfriend
his works, his leisure.
Nothing he does not weigh,
Nothing bryaknet; unmounted, equestrian -
All the same, he; all the same kind of
Nepobedimыy, nepreklonnыy.
Thunderstorm careless Cossacks,
His wealth - horse zealous,
Pet mountain herds,
faithful companion, patient.
In a cave in the grass il deaf
Insidious predator with him lies
And suddenly, suddenly an arrow,
envied Putnik, aims to;
In an instant, a true battle
Decides to blow his mighty,
And the stranger in the rocks of the mountains
Already carries the noose flying.
Seeks horse at full gallop,
Full of fiery courage;
All the way he: swamp, brown,
shrubs, cliffs and ravines;
Trail of blood behind him running,
In the desert stomping sounds;
Hoary stream before it is noisy -
He rushes into the depths of the boiling;
and the traveler, thrown to the bottom,
Swallows turbid wave,
Exhausted death asks
And it sees in front of him ...
But powerful horse with an arrow
Makes foam on the shore.

Ile grabbed horned stump,
The river decayed storm,
When the hills shroud
It lies on a moonless night shadow,
Circassians in the centuries-old roots,
On a branch hangs around
His armor battle,
Shield, burka, armor and Shelom,
Quiver and bow - and fast waves
Then catches him,
A tireless and silent.
dead of night. river revet;
Mighty current it carries
Along the banks of solitary,
Where elevated mounds,
Leaning on the spear, Cossacks
Looking at the dark river run -
I pass them, in the mist of blackening,
Floating arms villain ...
What are you thinking about, Kazakh?
Be prior mention of the battle,
On his death his field camp,
Regiments of praise prayer
And home?... Sinister dream!
Простите, voluntary village,
And the house of fathers, and Quiet Don,
War and red girls!
By bregam approached the secret enemy,
The arrow goes out of the quiver,
He soared - and falls Cossack
With bloody mound.

When a family peacefully
Circassians in the paternal home
Sitting sometimes rainy,
And the smoldering embers in the ashes;
AND, spryanuv with trusty steed,
In the mountains, the desert late,
To him will weary stranger
And timidly sit by the fire:
Then the owner of supportive
greetings, affectionately, rises
And guests in a bowl of sweet
Chihiro (9) encouraging feeds.
Under wet cloak, in a smoky hut,
Eats traveler peaceful sleep,
And in the morning he leaves
Overnight shelter friendly. (10)

Sometimes, in light Bairan (11)
Sberutsya adolescents tolpoyu;
The game play of the replaced.
the, full dismantling the quiver,
They winged arrows
Pierce the clouds eagles;
With the height of steep hills
impatient rows,
With this sign, suddenly fall,
As the deer hit the ground,
Plain dust cover
And with a friendly whisper run.

But the world is boring monotonous
hearts, born for war,
And often, the game will idle
Game brutal confused.
Often bombs threatening shine
In the mad playfulness peers,
And the dust flying head slaves,
And joy babies splash.

But Russian indifferently mature
These bloody fun.
He loved before fame game
And burning thirst for destruction.
Slave honor ruthless,
He saw near his end,
On fights hard, hladny,
Meeting the disastrous lead,
May be, immersed in thought,
He is mindful of the time,
When, surrounded by friends,
He feasted with them noisy ...
Does he regret the days gone by,
On the days, hope deceived,
Ile, curious, contemplated
Severe simplicity fun
And people like it wild
In this and the right mirror read -
He harbored a deep silence, he
the movements of his heart,
And on his forehead high
It does not change anything;
His reckless courage
Circassians formidable marveled,
Spared his age Mlada
And whisper to each other
Proud of his prey.

ЧАСТЬ ВТОРАЯ

You know them, mountain Maid,
heart delights, sweetness of life;
your fire, innocent look
Expressed love and joy.
When your friend in the darkness of night
You mute kiss with a kiss,
Sgoraya him and zhelanyem,
You forget the earthly world,
You said: "Captive cute,
Cheer their eyes dull,
Bend the head to my chest,
freedom, forget home.
Hiding glad I pustyneS thee, King of my soul!
Love me; no one to this day
I kissed my eyes;
To my lonely bed
Cherkessiya youth and chernookoy
Not sneaked into the quiet night;
I Slyvu virgin cruel,
inexorable beauty.
I know a lot me ready:
My father and brother of a severe
Doghouse want to sell
In a strange village at the cost of gold;
But I will ask the father and brother,
It's not that - I find il poison dagger.
incomprehensibility, marvelous force
To you I'm all involved;
Love you, slave cute,
Soul you drunk ... "

But he was silent regret
On passionate maiden looked
AND, full Serious Reflections,
According to her love listened.
he forgets. It crowded
Memories of past days,
And even tears from the eyes
Once rolled by hail.
Lying in the heart, as lead,
Tosca love without Hope.
Before the young maiden last
He poured out his sufferings their:

"Forget about me; your love,
I do not deserve your enthusiasm.
Precious days do not spend with me;
Another young man call me.
His love for you to replace
My soul sad coldness;
He would be faithful, he will appreciate
your beauty, your cute look,
And the heat of infant kisses,
And tenderness fiery speeches;
without rapture, without desires
I vyanu victim passion.
You can see the trail of love unhappy,
Mental terrible storm trail;
leave me; but pity
About my sad fate!
The unfortunate one, Why not before
You appeared to my eyes than,
In those days, I believed in hope
And intoxicating dreams!
but later: I died for happiness,
I hope ghost flew;
Your friend lost touch with lust,
For tender feelings froze ...

How hard dead lips
Living with a kiss to answer
And the eyes full of tears
Smiling coldly meet!
Exhausted in vain jealousy,
Asleep unfeeling soul,
In the arms of a passionate friend
How hard to think of another!..

When so slowly, so soft
You're drinking my kisses,
And watch for you love
pass quickly, bezmyatezhno;
Eatables tears in silence
then scattered, dull
Before a, dreamily,
I see the image of the ever-cute;
his call, to seek him,
silent, I do not see, not heed;
You surrender to oblivion
And the secret ghost hug.
About him in tears pour desert;
Everywhere he wanders with me
And gloomy melancholy suggests
Per capita cheese I.

So leave me my breast,
secluded dream,
memories, sadness and tears:
They can not separate you.
You could hear hearts confession;
Forgive me ... give me your hand - goodbye.
Not long love of a woman
Frigid sad parting;
love will take place, comes boredom,
Belle fall in love again ".

Opening the mouth, crying without tears,
He sat a young virgin.
Fog, fixed gaze
The silent expressing reproach;
Pale as a shadow, she trembled;
In the hands of her lover lying
Her cold hand;
And finally love nostalgia
In a sad voice izlilasya:

'Brother, Russian, Russian, для чего,
Not knowing your heart,
You forever I betrayed!
Not long on your chest
Maid rested in oblivion;
Not many happy nights
Fate sent her to share!
Do come again someday?
Can it be true forever lost the joy?..
You could, prisoner, deceive
My inexperienced Mladost,
While one used out of pity,
silence, affection prytvornoy;
I charmed b thy lot
Caring gentle and submissive;
I watched over b minutes of sleep,
Peace yearning friend;
You did not want to ... But who is she,
Your lovely girlfriend?
You like, Russian? you love?
I understand your suffering ...
Well I'm sorry and you're my sobs,
Do not laugh at my sorrows ".

Umolkla. Tears and groans
Inconveniencing poor virgin breast.
Mouth without words Roptai penny.
Without feelings, hugging his knees,
She could hardly breathe.
And captive, quiet hand
Raising poor, He said:
"Do not Cry: and I persecuted destiny,
And the heart of flour tested.
Not, I did not know love, mutual,
I loved one, suffered one;
And I GASN, as a flame of smoke,
Forgotten among the empty valleys;
Die away bregov coveted;
I will be the grave of this steppe;
Here in my bones expelled
Zarzhavit painful chain ... "

Night light overshadowed;
In the distance Transparency means
Hot bulk svetlosnezhnyh;
head skloniv, with downcast eyes,
They parted in silence.

Dull prisoner from now
One wanders the neighborhood village.
Fireworks znoynыy sky
For days the days are new builds;
For a night out at night vosled;
In vain he craves freedom.
Sulfuric flicker between the bushes,
Proskachet Do in the Shadows saiga:
is he, flushing, zagremit chains,
He is waiting, not stolen eh Cossack,
Night villages destroyer,
Slaves brave deliverer.
Calls ... but everything around is silent;
Only the waves lap raging,
And the human beast Pochuev,
In the dark desert run.

One hears a Russian prisoner,
In the mountains, there was a military cliques:
"The herd, a herd of!"Ran, make noise;
Bridles copper thunder,
Cherneyut burqas, shine armor,
Simmer saddled horses,
To ready the whole village raid,
And the wild battle pets
The river flowed from the hills
And jump on the Kuban bregam
Sbiralsya violent tribute.

ceased rural; sleeping in the sun
In huts guard dogs.
Infants swarthy, naked
The noise-free playfulness;
Their grandparents are sitting in a circle,
Of the tubes is blue smoke viyas.
They silently young virgins
Familiar listen to the chorus,
And elders, younger heart.

Circassian song

1.
The river runs snaps shaft;
In the mountains, the silence of the night;
Cossack tired dozed off,
Leaning on the spear steel.
Do not sleep, Kazakh: in the darkness of night
Chechen goes across the river.

2.
Cossack floats on the shuttle,
Dragging on the bottom of the river network.
Kazakh, drown you in the river,
How to drown small children,
Bathed frying times:
Chechen goes across the river.

3.
On the shore treasured waters
Bloom rich village;
Cheerful dancing dance.
Flee, Russian singer,
hurry, red, home:
Chechen goes across the river.

So sang the Virgin. The strain on the hills,
Russian dreams of escape;
But tsep slave hard,
Fast deep river ...
Meanwhile,, pomerknuv, steppe asleep,
rocks clouded peaks.
The white huts aul
Glimpsed the pale light of the moon;
Elena's dremlyut the waters,
Umolknul late scream eagles,
And the mountains echoed hollowly
Far topot tabunov.

Then someone was heard,
Flashed virgin veil,
And now - a sad and pale
To him she was approaching.
The lips looking lovely speech;
Eyes full of sorrow,
And black of the incident wave
Its his hair on chest and shoulders.
In one hand shines Saw,
In another of her dagger damask;
It seemed, if there was a virgin
On a secret battle, to exploit inverse.

On the prisoner look vozvedshego,
"Run, - said the virgin mountains: —
Nowhere Circassian you will not meet.
Hurry; do not spend the night hours;
take the dagger: your tracks
No one would notice in the dark ".

Peel took a trembling hand,
To his feet she bent;
Squeals iron under the saw,
Involuntary tear rolled down -
And the chain broke and thunder.
"You are free, - Maid says, —
run!"But her eyes mad
Love rush portrayed.
she suffered. wind noisy,
whistling, cover her club.
"O my friend! - Russian cried, —
I'm yours forever, I am yours till death.
Both will leave a terrible edge,
Run away with me ... "-" There is no, Russian, not!
She disappeared, sweetness of life;
I know everything, I knew the joy,
And all went, gone and the trail.
perhaps l? you loved another!..
Find it, Love her;
What I still miss?
What my despondency?. .
forgive! love Your Blessings
With you will every hour.
I'm sorry - forget my torment,
Give me a hand ... the last time ".

By the Circassian he stretched hands,
Risen heart to it flew,
And a long separation kiss
Union of love imprinted.
Hand in hand, full of despondency,
Gone to Bregu in silence -
And the Russian in a noisy depth
Already floats and foams wave,
Already nasty rocks reached,
Already suffices for them ...
Suddenly a wave of muffled murmur,
And I hear a distant moan..
On the wild Breg leaves him,
Looking back ... shores yasneli
And openennye whitened;
But no Circassian Mlada
Neither the banks, nor under the mountain ...
Everything is dead asleep on the banks ...
Only the wind can be heard the sound of light,
And the moon in the water splashing
Struisty circle disappears.

All he knew. farewell glance
Embraces it for the last time
Empty village with its fence,
fields, where a captive herd of pass,
rapids, which dragged the shackles,
Creek, where at midday rested,
When in the mountains Circassian harsh
I lead the singing of freedom songs.

Thinning out in the sky a deep gloom,
I went on a day dark dollars,
Vzoshla fireworks. trail far
Freed prisoner was;
And before him is already in the mists
Russian bayonets gleamed,
And hail to the mounds
guard Cossacks.

epilogue

So Muse, easy one Dreams,
For Asia the limits of flying
And plucked the wreath itself
Caucasian wild flowers.
Her outfit captivated harsh
tribes, increased during the war,
And often in this new clothes
Sorceress was me;
Around the villages deserted
One was wandering on the rocks
And the songs of virgins orphaned
She listened there;
I loved cursing village,
Alarm brave Cossacks,
mounds, quiet tomb,
And the sound, and the neighing of herds.
Goddess of songs and stories,
full of memories,
May be, repeat it
Legends formidable Caucasus;
Tells the story of distant countries,
Mstislav ancient duel,
treason, Russians death
In the bosom of vengeful Georgians;
And I will sing that glorious hour,
When, Pochuev bloody battle,
In nehoduyuschyy Caucasus
Our bear the eagle-headed;
When the gray-Terek
First came the thunder of battle
And the thunder of drums Russian,
And cut, with stout brow,
He was a passionate Tsitsianov;
You, I will sing, hero,
At Kotlyarevsky, Caucasian scourge!
Wherever you raced a storm -
your move, as the black plague,
lost, insignificant tribes ...
You left the sword of vengeance this day,
You are not happy war;
missing the world, ulcer in common,
You eat the rest idle
And the silence of the home Dolov ...
But lo - East lifts howl ...
Ponikni snowy head,
Surrender, Caucasus: goes Ermolov!

And smolknul fierce war cry,
Everything is subject to Russian sword.
Proud sons of the Caucasus,
fought, you died horribly;
But you did not save our blood,
Neither enchanted armor,
neither mountains, or dashing horses,
Neither the wild love of liberty!
Like the tribe of Batu,
Change forefathers Caucasus,
Abud alčnoj defends vote,
Leave arrows fighting.
the gorge, where you nest,
Will drive the traveler without fear,
And the herald of your penalty
Legends of dark rumors.

1820-1821
NOTES.
(1) Beştu, or, correctly, Beştaw, Caucasian mountain in 40 miles from Georgievsk. It is known in our history.

(2) Village. This is the name of the village of Caucasian peoples.

(3) Uzdenov, the chief or prince.

(4) saber, Circassian saber.

(5) cottage, hut.

(6) Mare's milk is made from mare's milk; Drink this in great use among all the highlanders and the nomadic peoples of Asia. He was quite pleasant taste and is revered very healthy.

(7) Happy Georgia's climate does not reward this very beautiful country for all disasters, forever it undergoes. Georgian songs are pleasant and mostly plaintive. They praise the minute advances Caucasian weapons, the death of our heroes: Bakunin and Tsitsianov, treason, murder - sometimes love and pleasure.

(8) Derzhavin in his excellent ode to Count Zubov first depicted in the following verses wild picture Caucasus:

About a young leader, It is finished hiking,
You went to the army of the Caucasus,
mature horrors, beauty of nature:
As with the ribs there terrible mountains liyas,
Roar in the darkness of the depths of the angry river;
As for the person of their thundering snow
fall, lying intact forever;
as the roes, bowing down horns,
Behold in the dark quietly under him
Birth of lightning and thunder.

you mature, As clear season
There, the sun's rays, the ice,
broad waters, play, reflected,
Magnificent views kazhut;
how, in colorful sieving
there spray, thin rain lit;
As a lump there sizoyantarna,
shed, He looks into the dark forest;
And there Zarya zlatobahryana
Through the woods cheer eyes.
Zhukovsky, in his letter to Mr.. Voeikov, also devotes some lovely poems of the Caucasus description:
you mature, like Terek in sprinting
vineyards between noisy,
Where, Preity often on the banks,
Chechen, Circassian il sat,
under the cloak, with the fatal noose;
And in the distance in front of you,
Dressed in blue mist,
Mountain rises above the mountain,
And in the seat of their giant gray,
like a cloud, Elborus headed.
Awful and majestic
Everything is beautiful shine:
Mossy cliffs masses,
Running roaring waterfalls
In the darkness of the depths with granite rocks;
The woods, whose dream of the century
High jump volunteer, neither man
Cheerful voice is not troubled,
In that gloomy canopy
Another ray of day did not penetrate,
Where occasionally some ELENI,
There was a terrible scream of an eagle,
Crowding into the crowd, rustling branches,
And goats light legs
Ran on the rocks.
There is still displeased
the splendor of creation!
But there, among solitude
valleys, lurking in the mountains,
Gnezdyatsya and Balkars, i bah,
And Abazi, and kamutsinets,
And korbulak, and albazinets,
And chechereets, and shapsuk.
pischal, mail, saber, bow
And the horse, associate of the fleet -
Them and the treasures of the gods;
As chamois jumping over the mountains,
Throw death due to cliff;
Or marshy shores,
In the high grass in the woods
spill, waiting for prey;
Freedom Rocks them shelter.
But in the days of their villages wander
On crutches morose laziness:
There their lives - sleep; short of a circle
In fraternal tobacco pot
dabbed chibouks, the shadows,
In the smoke swirling sit
And talking about murder;
Or praise apt squeaked,
Of which their grandfathers fired;
Ile saber on silicon bantered,
Finish on new murder.
(9) Chiharu, red Georgian wine.
(10) The Circassians, like all savage nations, different before us hospitality. -Guest stanovytsya them sacred person. Betray him or not protect revered between them for the greatest dishonor. Kunak (т. it is. friend, acquaintance) responsible life for your safety, and with it you can go deep into the middle of the mountains Kabardian.

(11) At Ili Bairam, rozgovenya holiday. Ramazan, muzulmansky post.

(12) Mstislav, a son. St.. Vladimir, nicknamed Successful, feudal prince Tmutarakana (Taman island). He fought with Kosogov (most likely, current Circassians) and in a duel beat Duke of Rededi. См. Ist. Gov't. Ross. Tom II.

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