Hajji Bow

«jumps, my horse! Puhlyvыm eye
Why do you look ahead?
the stone, smooth flow!..
That snake scales shines!..
Tvoeyu grivoy in field harrows
I washed the blood from the hand of the mighty;
In the steppe deaf, in an evil hour,
More than once I have saved you.
We will rest in the land of their own;
Your bridle still Bole
Obveshu Russian silver;
And you will be a green field.
Long Since, long since you've changed,
Tell, dear comrade?
That sooner penoyu covered?
That heavy breathing under me?
That's a month out of the fog,
Riding trees oserebryt,
And we will glade,
Where our village in the darkness of sleep;
Zableschut, distance flickering,
Lights dzhematskih shepherds,
And the differences we, approaching,
Muffled neighing herds;
And the horses round the pillars of your ...
But if I just get up,
They are in fear zahrapyat,
And recoil ago:
They pochuyut afar,
That we are with you kids rock!..»

Valley encompasses more night,
Aul Jemat quietly napping;
An old man in it alone does not sleep.
One, as a monument to the grave,
immovable, near the dusty road,
On a gray stone he sits.
His eyes on the distant path
Fixed longingly deep.

"Who is this rider? Economically
He slides down the mountain steep;
His companion dolgogrivy
Hung his tired head.
In the hand, at Bourke Road,
He was holding something carefully
and protects, as the light of the eyes ".
And the old man thinks bent:
"Present, right, precious
From sweet to my daughter!»

Too close to the rider: under the mountain
Horse, he suddenly stopped;
Then a trembling hand
He opened his cloak dark;
I opened, - and the gift of his blood
He slid quietly on the grass.
Unhappy sees, - Good God!
His head Leily!..
And he, in frantic admiration,
By his mouth pressed her!
As if she passed
Their last torment.
His whole life in a single moan,
The one with the kisses poured it.
pretty people <и> sorrow
It tormented poor heart!
like a thread, decayed long ago,
Suddenly tore it,
And still wrinkles
Covered with pale demise.
Soul flew so fast,
that thought, that is until the end of
He lived, his features
Absolutely not had time to leave.

Keeping silence grim,
Haji he did not wondered:
He looked at his sword, the horse, –
And quickly went to the mountains.

raced year. In a remote gorge
Two stinking corpse, in the dust,
Bluždaâ traveler find,
And was buried at the top.
doused with blood were both,
And vividly drawn a grudge
A curse on their forehead.
embracing tightly, on the ground
They lay kosteneya,
Two friends with the mind - two villain!
May be, the one dream,
But the poor pilgrims seemed,
That they sometimes face changed,
What does all threatened their mouths.
Their clothing was rich,
Hood of their hats covered:
In one learned Bay Bulat,
No one else knew.

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Mikhail Lermontov
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