(Gorskaya legend)

Haroun ran faster doe,
Hurry, than the hare from the eagle;
He fled in fear from the battlefield,
Where the blood flowed Circassian;
Father and two siblings
For the honor and freedom lay there,
And in the fifth at sopostata
Lay their heads in the dust.
Their blood flowing and asks vengeance,
Haroun forgot their duty and shame;
He lost in the heat of battle
rifle, checker - and runs!

And disappeared the day; swirling, fogs
Wore dark field
Wide white veil;
It smelled cold from east,
And over the desert prophet
He stood quietly month gold!..

Tired, thirst tormented,
On the face wiping the blood and sweat,
Haroun between rocks village darling
Moonlight finds;
he stole, nobody visible ...
The silence and peace,
With a bloody battle unscathed
Only he came home.

And he rushes to the hut friend,
There shines the light, home owner;
scrapie soul, as he could,
Haroun stepped through the door;
Selim called it before another,
Selim did not recognize the stranger;
on the couch, tormented by illness,
One, - he, silently, - has died ...
"Allah is great, from an evil poison
He shall give his angels bright
Ordered to take care of you for the glory!»
"What's new?"- Selim sprosil,
Raising weakening eyelids,
And eyes flashed fire of hope!..
And he stood, and the blood of a fighter
Re-enacted in the late hours.
"For two days we bilisya in gorge;
my father fell, and brothers with him;
And I hid one in the desert,
the beast, persecuted, chase,
With bleeding feet
From sharp rocks and bushes,
I went unheralded trails
On the trail of wild boars and wolves;
Circassians are dying - the enemy everywhere ...
accept me, my old friend;
And the prophet! your services
I will not forget to grave!..»
And dying in response:
"Go on - you deserve contempt.
no blood, nor benediction
Here I have for no coward!..»

Shame and mystery full of flour,
Without anger to endure reproach,
again stepped Haroun silent
For inhospitable threshold.

AND, saklia new bypass,
For a moment he stopped,
And the old days flying dream
Suddenly showering kisses fever
His cold forehead;
And it was sweet and light
his soul; in the darkness,
Seemed, plamennыe eyes
Flashed before him tenderly;
And he thought: I love;
She just lives and breathes me ...
And he wants to climb - and hears,
And I hear the song of old ...
And he became Haroun paler moon:

month floats
Calm and quiet,
A boy soldier
For the battle is.
Gun charges horseman,
A maiden said to him,:
My dear, boldly
Vveryaysya ft Year,
Molisya east,
Be faithful prophet,
Be rather glory.
his changed
Change bloody,
The enemy is not immediately,
Perish without glory,
Rains his injuries have taken a bath,
And the bones of animals do not bury.
month floats
And quiet,
A boy soldier
For the battle is.

hanging his head of, with rapidity
Haroun continues its path,
And sometimes a big tear
With eyelash falls on the chest ...

But now the storm tilted
In front of him is white house home;
Hope again encouraged,
Haroun is knocking at the window.
There, right, fervent prayers
Ascend to heaven for him;
Old mother waiting for her son to battle,
But no one is waiting for him!..

"Mother - open to! I am a poor wanderer,
I am your Haroun, your younger son;
Through the Russian bullets harmless
I come to you!»
- "One?»
- "One!»
- "Where is my father and brothers?» –
- «Pali!
The Prophet blessed their death,
And the angels take their souls ".
- "You have avenged?»
- "Do not be avenged ...
But I boom set off into the mountains,
He left the sword in a Strange Land,
To soothe your eyes
And wipe your tears ... "
«Silent, silent! Gyaur crafty,
You could not die with glory,
so failed, live one.
thy shame, runaway freedom,
I will not spoil the old days,
You're a coward and a slave - and I am not the son of!..»
Paused word Miserables,
And all around engulfed in sleep.
curses, groans and supplications
There were long under the window;
And finally a dagger
Thwarted unhappy shame ...
And the mother saw the morning ...
And coldly turned her gaze.
And corpse, expelled from the righteous,
No one in the cemetery is not carried,
And the blood from his wounds deep
Lisa snarling dog home;
Small guys swearing
Above the cool body of a dead man,
The devotion to liberty were
Shame and death of fugitive.
His soul from the eyes of the Prophet
With the fear was gone away;
And his shadow in mountains east
Still wandering in the dark night,
And under the window early in the morning
He asks in a hut knocking,
But heeding loud verse of the Qur'an,
run again, under the canopy of fog,
As before running from the sword.

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Mikhail Lermontov
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