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Three maidens by the window
Spun late in the evening.

"If only I was the queen, –
Says one girl, –
Then baptized for the whole world
I had prepared a feast ".
- "If only I was the queen, –
Says her sister, –
Then the whole world would be one
I Natkala canvas ".
- "If only I was the queen, –
The third rumor sister, –
I'm used to the priest-king
She gave birth to a hero '.
Only had time to utter,
The door creaked softly,
And in the parlor comes the king,
Sides of the emperor.
In all the talk time
He stood behind the fence;
It last around
Admire him.
"Hello, red girl, –
he says, - whether the queen
And the hero of rhodium
I by the end of September.
you Well, dear-sister,
Get out Svetlitsa.
Go after me,
After me and my sister:
Whether you are one of the weaver,
And another cook ".
In the shadow of the king departed father.
All empty palace.
The king was going to briefly:
The same evening married.
Tsar Saltan for a feast of fair
I sat down with the young queen;
And then the fair visitors
On a bed of ivory
We put young
And left alone.
In the kitchen, angry cook,
Crying at the bench weaver -
And envy ONET
the sovereign's wife.
A young queen,
Case far not postponing,
On the first night suffered.
In those days the war was.
Tsar Saltan, My wife and I simply,
A good horse sadyasya,
She chastised herself
take care, his loving.

meanwhile, it is far
Beating long and cruel,
There comes a period of homelands;
The Son of God gave them in the yard,
And the queen of the child,
How eagle over orlenkom;
Sends a letter she messenger,
To please his father.
A weaver with a cook,
With Swat Baba Babarikha
Lime want it,
Adopt a messenger is told;
Sami send another messenger
That's what every word:
"I Gave birth to the queen of the night
Not the son, not the daughter;
not a mouse, not a frog,
A little creatures unknown ".
As the king had heard the father,
That the messenger told him:,
In anger he began miracles
And the messenger wanted to hang;
But, relenting at this time,
I gave this order to the messenger:
"Wait one will return Tsar
For the validity of the decision ".
Merit goes to the messenger
And finally arrived.
A weaver with a cook
With Swat Baba Babarikha
Told to rob him;
Dopьjana foot gonцa
And in his empty bag
Shoved another letter -
And the messenger brought intoxicating
On the same day the order such:
"The king tells his boyars,
Without wasting time for nothing,
And the queen and litter
Secretly thrown into the abyss of waters ".
Nothing to do: boyars,
Tighter of the emperor
And the young queen,
In the bedroom, the crowd came to her.
Royally announced will -
She and her son share an evil,
Read aloud the decree
And the queen at the same hour
The barrel of his son planted,
tar, cracking
And let the okiya -
So he ordered de Tsar Saltan.

In the blue sky the stars shine,
In the blue sea waves lash;
A cloud in the sky is,
Barrel floats on the sea.
Like a bitter widow,
crying, It beats her queen;
And the child grows there
Not by leaps, and bounds.
The day passed - the queen of screams ...
A child waves hurry:
"You, my wave, wave?
You gulliva and is free;
Pleschesh you, wherever you want,
You're sharpening stones sea,
Drowning beach you land,
Raises ships -
Do not ruin you our soul:
Vyplesni you have to land!»
And listen to the wave:
Here on the shore it
Barrel rendered lightly
And quietly drained.
Mother and Child rescued;
Earth she feels.
But because of who they take out the barrel?
Surely God will leave them?
Son stood on legs,
The bottom head rested,
Ponatuzhilsya little:
"How to be here at the courtyard window
we do?"- said the he,
Knocked the bottom and went out.
Mother and son are now in the wild;
See Hill in a wide field;
Sea blue circle,
Green oak over the hill.
son thought: good dinner
Would we, but, need.
Ache he's oak bough
And in a tight bend a bow,
From the cross snurok Silk
I pulled the bow oak,
Thin trostochku slomyl,
Arrow light zavostril
And he went to the edge of the valley
Seaside seek Dichin.
To the sea only suited he,
That seemed to hear a moan ...
It is seen, Sea not quiet:
Looks - sees the matter famously:
Beating swan amid zybey,
Kite flutters over her;
And so bednyazhka and pleschet,
Round the water stirs and whips ...
He really nails dissolved,
Biting bloody pricked ...
But just as the arrow sang -
The neck of the vulture hurt -
Kite in a sea of ​​blood shed.
Bow down Prince;
looks: kite in the sea drowns
And no bird cry moaning,

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