Opening the text

Anthology of Russian literature from the earliest period to the present time, volume 1 (of 2) : $b From the tenth century to the close of the eighteenth centuryWiener, Leo

General

Anthology of Russian literature from the earliest period to the present time, volume 1 (of 2) : $b From the tenth century to the close of the eighteenth century

Name: Anthology of Russian literature from the earliest period to the present time, volume 1 (of 2) : $b From the tenth century to the close of the eighteenth century
Author: Wiener, Leo

Wiener, Leo

Russia -- Literary collections; Russian literature -- Translations into English

Not a mighty cloud has covered the sky,
    Nor mighty thunders have thundered:
    Whither travels the dog, Crimea’s tsar?--
    To the mighty tsarate of Muscovy.
    “To-day we will go against stone-built Moscow,
    But coming back, we will take Ryazán.”
    And when they were at the river Oká,
    They began their white tents to pitch.
    “Now think a thought with all your minds:
    Who is to sit in stone-built Moscow,
    And who is to sit in Vladímir,
    And who is to sit in Súzdal,
    And who will hold old Ryazán,
    And who will sit in Zvenígorod,
    And who will sit in Nóvgorod?”
    There stepped forward Diví Murza, son of Ulán:
    “Listen, our lord, Crimea’s tsar!
    You, our lord, shall sit in stone-built Moscow,
    And your son in Vladímir,
    And your nephew in Súzdal,
    And your relative in Zvenígorod,
    And let the equerry hold old Ryazán,
    But to me, O lord, grant Nóvgorod:
    There, in Nóvgorod, lies my luck.”
    The voice of the Lord called out from heaven:
    “Listen, you dog, Crimea’s tsar!
    Know you not the tsarate of Muscovy?
    There are in Moscow seventy Apostles,[117]
    Besides the three Sanctified;
    And there is in Moscow still an orthodox Tsar.”
    And you fled, you dog, Crimea’s tsar,
    Not over the highways, nor the main road,
    Nor following the black standard.


THE SONG OF THE PRINCESS KSÉNIYA BORÍSOVNA[118]

    There weepeth a little bird,
    A little white quail:
    “Alas, that I so young must grieve!
    They wish to burn the green oak,
    To destroy my little nest,
    To kill my little ones,
    To catch me, quail.”
    In Moscow the Princess weepeth:
    “Alas that I so young must grieve!
    For there comes to Moscow the traitor,
    Gríshka Otrépev Rozstríga,[119]
    Who wants to take me captive,
    And having captured make me a nun,
    To send me into the monastery.
    But I do not wish to become a nun,
    To go into a monastery:
    I shall keep my dark cell open,
    To look at the fine fellows.
    O our beautiful corridors!
    Who will walk over you
    After our tsarian life
    And after Borís Godunóv?
    O our beautiful palace halls!
    Who will be sitting in you
    After our tsarian life
    And after Borís Godunóv?”
    And in Moscow the Princess weepeth,
    The daughter of Borís Godunóv:
    “O God, our merciful Saviour!
    Wherefore is our tsardom perished,--
    Is it for father’s sinning,
    Or for mother’s not praying?
    And you beloved palace halls!
    Who will rule in you,
    After our tsarian life?
    Fine stuffs of drawn lace!--
    Shall we wind you around the birches?
    Fine gold-worked towels!
    Shall we throw you into the woods?
    Fine earrings of hyacinth
    Shall we hang you on branches,
    After our tsarian life,
    After the reign of our father,
    Glorious Borís Godunóv?
    Wherefore comes to Moscow Rozstríga,
    And wants to break down the palaces,
    And to take me, princess, captive,

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

Anthology of Russian literature from the earliest period to the present time, volume 1 (of 2) : $b From the tenth century to the close of the eighteenth centuryWiener, Leo

General

Anthology of Russian literature from the earliest period to the present time, volume 1 (of 2) : $b From the tenth century to the close of the eighteenth century

Wiener, Leo

Russia -- Literary collections; Russian literature -- Translations into English

Not a mighty cloud has covered the sky,
    Nor mighty thunders have thundered:
    Whither travels the dog, Crimea’s tsar?--
    To the mighty tsarate of Muscovy.
    “To-day we will go against stone-built Moscow,
    But coming back, we will take Ryazán.”
    And when they were at the river Oká,
    They began their white tents to pitch.
    “Now think a thought with all your minds:
    Who is to sit in stone-built Moscow,
    And who is to sit in Vladímir,
    And who is to sit in Súzdal,
    And who will hold old Ryazán,
    And who will sit in Zvenígorod,
    And who will sit in Nóvgorod?”
    There stepped forward Diví Murza, son of Ulán:
    “Listen, our lord, Crimea’s tsar!
    You, our lord, shall sit in stone-built Moscow,
    And your son in Vladímir,
    And your nephew in Súzdal,
    And your relative in Zvenígorod,
    And let the equerry hold old Ryazán,
    But to me, O lord, grant Nóvgorod:
    There, in Nóvgorod, lies my luck.”
    The voice of the Lord called out from heaven:
    “Listen, you dog, Crimea’s tsar!
    Know you not the tsarate of Muscovy?
    There are in Moscow seventy Apostles,[117]
    Besides the three Sanctified;
    And there is in Moscow still an orthodox Tsar.”
    And you fled, you dog, Crimea’s tsar,
    Not over the highways, nor the main road,
    Nor following the black standard.


THE SONG OF THE PRINCESS KSÉNIYA BORÍSOVNA[118]

    There weepeth a little bird,
    A little white quail:
    “Alas, that I so young must grieve!
    They wish to burn the green oak,
    To destroy my little nest,
    To kill my little ones,
    To catch me, quail.”
    In Moscow the Princess weepeth:
    “Alas that I so young must grieve!
    For there comes to Moscow the traitor,
    Gríshka Otrépev Rozstríga,[119]
    Who wants to take me captive,
    And having captured make me a nun,
    To send me into the monastery.
    But I do not wish to become a nun,
    To go into a monastery:
    I shall keep my dark cell open,
    To look at the fine fellows.
    O our beautiful corridors!
    Who will walk over you
    After our tsarian life
    And after Borís Godunóv?
    O our beautiful palace halls!
    Who will be sitting in you
    After our tsarian life
    And after Borís Godunóv?”
    And in Moscow the Princess weepeth,
    The daughter of Borís Godunóv:
    “O God, our merciful Saviour!
    Wherefore is our tsardom perished,--
    Is it for father’s sinning,
    Or for mother’s not praying?
    And you beloved palace halls!
    Who will rule in you,
    After our tsarian life?
    Fine stuffs of drawn lace!--
    Shall we wind you around the birches?
    Fine gold-worked towels!
    Shall we throw you into the woods?
    Fine earrings of hyacinth
    Shall we hang you on branches,
    After our tsarian life,
    After the reign of our father,
    Glorious Borís Godunóv?
    Wherefore comes to Moscow Rozstríga,
    And wants to break down the palaces,
    And to take me, princess, captive,

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Anthology of Russian literature from the earliest period to the present time, volume 1 (of 2) : $b From the tenth century to the close of the eighteenth century

Anthology of Russian literature from the earliest period to the present time, volume 1 (of 2) : $b From the tenth century to the close of the eighteenth century

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