“Ruslan and Lyudmila” is one of the most popular fairy-tale works by A. S. Pushkin, in which the great power of love between Ruslan and Lyudmila turned out to be stronger than evil spells. Chernomor is a powerful evil wizard, an ugly dwarf with a long beard.
The events described in the poem take place during the reign of Prince Vladimir, in Kievan Rus. And the very place where the main events unfold is in Kyiv itself and in its environs, on the banks of the Dnieper River.
Image and characteristics of Chernomor
Chernomor is one of the central characters of A.S. Pushkin’s poem “Ruslan and Lyudmila”.
Chernomor is an evil dwarf sorcerer who lives in the northern regions high in the mountains. No one can get to the sorcerer. Chernomor lives in a beautiful castle, which is surrounded by luxurious gardens. He has many servants, the large halls of the palace have magnificent decorations.
Chernomor is known as a kidnapper of beauties from all over the world. One day, a dwarf kidnapped the daughter of Prince Vladimir and the bride of the brave knight Ruslan - Lyudmila.
Chernomor's magical power lies in his long beard. The sorcerer had a brother - a giant knight, whom he was very jealous of. Chernomor set out to destroy his older brother. The evil sorcerer was studying ancient books.
In one of the books, the dwarf found a mention of a magic sword, which is dangerous for both brothers. And then he fraudulently took possession of this sword and cut off the head of the blind giant. The evil sorcerer put a sword under his brother's head, revived it and left it to guard the deadly weapon.
Ruslan, in search of his bride, discovered the Head, under which a sword had been kept for many years. The former knight told his story to Ruslan. The head offered to take this sword to take revenge on the insidious and cruel Chernomor.
The story of the Head shows how cruel and merciless the evil sorcerer is. The dwarf did not spare his brother and ruined his life. Chernomor has such magical abilities as transformation and the ability to fly. To win Lyudmila's love, the sorcerer transforms into the wounded Ruslan. The dwarf does not disdain any means to achieve what he wants.
Chernomor's assistant is the evil sorceress Naina. She warns him of the impending danger, but Chernomor replies that as long as his beard is intact, the knight is not afraid of him. However, despite neither his magical power, nor the help of the invisible cap, nor Naina’s warnings, the evil sorcerer loses in the battle with Ruslan.
The knight cuts off the sorcerer's beard with his sword. Ruslan does not kill Chernomor, who asks the knight for mercy. He brings the defeated enemy to Kyiv, where he is received into the palace.
Chernomor was once a very powerful wizard who was able to control the stars in the sky. However, the hero is not capable of good, sincere feelings of love and compassion. The selfish sorcerer is presented in the image of a greedy, proud character. Having lost his beard, Chernomor will no longer be able to do the evil that he caused before.
Quotes from the poem “Ruslan and Lyudmila”
This small literary collection includes quotes from the poem “Ruslan and Lyudmila” + illustrations.
The famous Russian poet Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin is the author of a masterpiece of Russian classical literature - the poem “Ruslan and Lyudmila”. Years of writing: 1818—1820.
Prince Ruslan sets off on a long journey to find his wife Lyudmila, who was kidnapped by the evil sorcerer Chernomor. Having overcome many adversities, Ruslan frees his beloved. The poem ends with the triumph of Good over Evil.
Every day, rising from sleep, I sincerely thank God for the fact that in our times there are not so many Wizards.
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And each horse, not sensing the steel, chose its own path according to its will. I still have my faithful sword with me, The head has not yet fallen from my shoulders.
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I must tell you no more: The fate of your coming days, My son, is in your will from now on.
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The beard frightened her, but Chernomor was already known and was funny, and horror is never compatible with laughter.
But the bright mansion is not a consolation, When we do not see a friend in it.
***
Well, our prisoner is now! He trembles like a leaf, he doesn’t dare to breathe; The hearts grow cold, the gaze darkens; Instant sleep escapes from the eyes; Not sleeping, redoubled her attention, motionless looking into the darkness... Everything is gloomy, dead silence! Only hearts can hear the fluttering... Long-time dreams have come true, ardent desires have come true!
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And the brown wolf serves her faithfully; There the stupa with Baba Yaga goes, wanders by itself; There, King Kashchei is wasting away over gold; There is a Russian spirit there... it smells like Russia!
The victory is ours, I thought. But in fact the winner was rock, my persistent persecutor.
***
Swear - just be careful. But you, rivals in love, Live together, if possible!
Satisfied that I am right in soul, I remain silent in humble meekness.
With hope, cheerful faith, go for everything, don’t be discouraged; Forward! With a sword and a bold breast, make your way to midnight.
But, tired of ardent passion, Ruslan in love does not eat or drink;
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Cupid, with capricious annoyance, entered into a bold conspiracy, and a vengeful outfit is ready for your inglorious head.
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And now the young bride is led to the wedding bed; The lights went out... and Lel lights the night lamp.
Deeds of days gone by, Traditions of deep antiquity.
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There is a green oak near the Lukomorye; The golden chain on that oak tree: Day and night, the learned cat keeps walking around on the chain;
I'm driving, driving, not whistling, and when I get there, I won't let go.
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And finally I will be happy, I will leave this world in peace - And in my gratitude I will forget your slap in the face.
And for a seventeen-year-old girl, what hat won’t fit!
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In sweet oblivion he catches Her magical breath,
I have heard the truth: Although the forehead is wide, the brain is not enough!
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With a gaze full of sly flattery
***
Although it is sad to live, my friends, it is still possible to live.
Quotes from the poem “Ruslan and Lyudmila”
Quote from Ruslan
Quotes from the poem by A.S. are presented. Pushkin's "Ruslan and Lyudmila", characterizing the main character Ruslan. Quotes will help when writing essays and preparing reports on the topics of the poem.
SONG ONE
The brave Prince Ruslan marries the youngest daughter of Prince Vladimir.
In the crowd of mighty sons, With friends, in the high grid, Vladimir the sun feasted; He married off his youngest daughter to the brave Prince Ruslan...
Ruslan is in love with Lyudmila.
But, tired of ardent passion, Ruslan in love does not eat or drink; He looks at his dear friend, sighs, gets angry, burns, and, pinching his mustache with impatience, counts every moment.
Ruslan is scared and unhappy after Lyudmila's disappearance.
And again the tower is empty and quiet; The frightened groom gets up, cold sweat rolls off his face; Trembling, with a cold hand He asks the mute darkness... About grief: there is no dear friend! The air is empty; Lyudmila is missing in the thick darkness, kidnapped by an unknown force.
Ah, if the martyr of love suffers hopelessly from passion, Although it is sad to live, my friends, However, it is still possible to live. But after many, many years, to hug a friend in love, an object of desires, tears, longing, and suddenly lose a momentary wife forever... oh friends, Of course it would be better if I died!
However, unhappy Ruslan is alive.
Ruslan is despondent, but volunteers to ride after Lyudmila.
Tell me, which of you agrees to ride after my daughter? Whose feat will not be in vain, torment him, cry, villain! He couldn’t save his wife! - To him I will give her as a wife with half the kingdom of my great-grandfathers. Who will volunteer, children, friends?..” “Me!” - said the sad groom.
All four go out together; Ruslan was killed by despondency; The thought of his lost bride torments and kills him.
After the heroes have gone their separate ways, Ruslan meets Elder Finn, who tells about Lyudmila’s kidnapper and foretells Ruslan’s victory in the upcoming fight.
Ruslan, you have lost Lyudmila; Your strong spirit is losing strength; But a quick moment of evil will rush by: For a while, doom has befallen you. With hope, cheerful faith, go for everything, don’t be discouraged; Forward! With a sword and a bold chest, make your way to midnight.
Find out, Ruslan: your offender is the terrible Wizard Chernomor, the long-time thief of beauties, the owner of full mountains. Until now, no one's gaze has penetrated his abode; But you, destroyer of evil machinations, will enter into it, and the villain will perish by your hand. I must tell you no more: The fate of your coming days, My son, is in your will from now on.”
SONG TWO
Ruslan rushes forward, thinking about Lyudmila and hoping to rescue her from captivity.
Meanwhile, Ruslan rushes far; In the wilderness of the forests, in the wilderness of the fields, With a habitual thought he strives for Lyudmila, his joy, And says: “Will I find a friend? Where are you, my soul husband? Will I see your bright gaze? Will I hear a gentle conversation? Or is it destined for you to be an eternal captive of the sorcerer And, growing old as a sorrowful maiden, To bloom in a dark prison? Or will a daring rival come?.. No, no, my priceless friend: I still have my faithful sword with me, The head has not yet fallen from my shoulders.”
Ruslan is overtaken by a fierce horseman with a spear. Ruslan rushes towards him like a thunderstorm and soon recognizes the rider by his violent voice.
One day, in the dark, Our knight rode over the river along the steep rocks along the bank. Everything was calming down. Suddenly behind him, an instant buzz of arrows, a ringing of chain mail, and a cry, and a neigh, and a muffled tramp across the field. "Stop!" - a thunderous voice boomed. He looked back: in the open field, Raising his spear, a Fierce horseman was flying with a whistle, and the prince rushed towards him like a thunderstorm. “Yeah! caught up with you! wait! — The daring rider shouts, “Get ready, friend, for the death blow; Now lie down among these places; And look for your brides there.” Ruslan flared up and trembled with anger; He recognizes this violent voice...
Ruslan defeats Rogdai in a duel and throws him from the shore into the waves. Rogdai dies.
In the quivering light of the moon the knights fought fiercely; Their hearts are oppressed with anger, the spears are already thrown far away, the swords are already shattered, the chain mail is covered with blood, the shields are cracking, broken into pieces... They grabbed onto their horses; Exploding black dust to the sky, the greyhounds' horses fight beneath them; The wrestlers, motionlessly intertwined, squeezing each other, remain, as if nailed to the saddle; Their members are cramped with malice; Intertwined and ossified; A quick fire runs through the veins; On the enemy's chest, the chest trembles - And then they hesitate, weaken - Someone's mouth... suddenly my knight, Boiling, with an iron hand, tears the rider off the saddle, Lifts him up, holds him above him, And throws him into the waves from the shore.
“Die! - exclaims menacingly; “Die, my evil envious man!”
You guessed, my reader, with whom the valiant Ruslan fought: It was the seeker of bloody battles, Rogdai, the hope of the people of Kiev, the gloomy admirer of Lyudmila. He was looking for rival tracks along the Dnieper banks; He found, overtook, but his former strength betrayed the battle pet, And the ancient daredevil of Rus' found his end in the desert. And it was heard that the young mermaid, horning those waters, took the cold Persians and, greedily kissing the knight, carried her to the bottom with laughter, and long after, on a dark night, Wandering near the quiet shores, the hero was a huge ghost Scarecrow of the desert fishermen.
SONG THIRD
Ruslan sees the old battlefield and tries to find armor for himself there.
But let's return to the hero. Isn’t it a shame for us to be busy with a hat and a beard for so long, entrusting Ruslana to fate? Having fought a fierce battle with Rogdai, he drove through a dense forest; A wide valley opened before him With the brilliance of the morning skies. The knight trembles involuntarily: He sees the old battlefield. In the distance everything is empty; here and there the bones turn yellow; Quivers and armor are scattered across the hills; Where is the harness, where is the rusty shield; The sword lies in the bones of the hand here; The shaggy helmet is overgrown with grass and the old skull is smoldering in it; The whole skeleton of the hero is there with his defeated horse Lying motionless; spears and arrows are pierced into the damp earth, And peaceful ivy entwines them... Nothing disturbs the silent silence of this Desert, And the sun from a clear height illuminates the Valley of Death.
With a sigh, the knight looks around himself with sad eyes. “O field, field, who littered you with dead bones? Whose greyhound horse trampled you in the last hour of the bloody battle? Who fell on you with glory? Whose heaven heard the prayers? Why, O field, have you become silent And overgrown with the grass of oblivion?.. From the eternal darkness, Perhaps there is no salvation for me either! Perhaps on a silent hill they will place the quiet coffin of Ruslan, And the loud strings of Bayan will not talk about him!
But soon my knight remembered that a hero needs a good sword and even armor; and the hero has been unarmed since the last battle. He walks around the field; In the bushes, among the forgotten bones, In the mass of smoldering chain mail, Swords and helmets of shattered armor, he searches for himself. A roar and a silent steppe woke up, A crackling and ringing arose in the field; He raised the shield, without choosing, He found both the helmet and the ringing horn; But I just couldn’t find the sword. Driving around the valley of battle, He sees many swords, But all are light, but too small, And the handsome prince was not sluggish, Not like the knight of our days. In order to play with something out of boredom, he took a steel spear in his hands, he put chain mail on his chest, and then he set off on his way.
Ruslan meets a living head that looks like a hill.
The ruddy sunset has already turned pale Over the sleepy earth; The blue mists smoke, And the golden moon rises; The steppe has faded. Our Ruslan rides along a dark path, thoughtfully, and sees: through the night fog, a huge hill blackens in the distance, And something terrible is snoring. He is closer to the hill, closer - he hears: The wonderful hill seems to be breathing. Ruslan listens and looks fearlessly, with a calm spirit; But, moving his timid ear, the horse resists, trembles, shakes his stubborn head, and his mane stands on end. Suddenly the hill, palely illuminated by the cloudless moon in the fog, becomes clear; The brave prince looks and sees a miracle before him. Will I find colors and words? There is a living head in front of him.
Brave Ruslan fights with a huge head, defeats it and is about to hit it with a sword, but the head begs for mercy.
Huge eyes covered in sleep; He snores, shaking his feathered helmet, And feathers in the dark heights, like shadows, walk, fluttering. In its terrible beauty, towering above the gloomy steppe, surrounded by silence, guardian of the nameless desert, it stands before Ruslan as a menacing and foggy mass. In bewilderment, he Mysteriously wants to destroy the dream. Looking closely at the wonder, he circled his head and stood silently before his nose; She tickled her nostrils with a spear, And, wincing, her head yawned, She opened her eyes and sneezed... A whirlwind arose, the steppe trembled, Dust flew up; a flock of owls flew from the eyelashes, from the mustache, from the eyebrows; The silent groves woke up, An echo sneezed - the zealous horse neighed, jumped, flew away, The knight himself barely sat, And after him a noisy voice was heard: “Where are you going, foolish knight? Step back, I'm not kidding! I’ll just swallow the impudence!” Ruslan looked around with contempt, held the reins of his horse and grinned with a proud look. "What do you want from me? - Frowning, the head cried out. - Fate sent me a guest! Listen, get away! I want to sleep, it’s night now, goodbye!” But the famous knight, hearing rude words, exclaimed with angry importance: “Be silent, empty head! I heard the truth, it happened: Although the forehead is wide, the brain is not enough! I’m driving, driving, not whistling, and when I get there, I won’t let you down!”
Then, numb from rage, constrained by flames of anger, the head swelled; like heat, Bloody eyes sparkled; Foaming, her lips trembled, Steam rose from her lips and ears - And suddenly she began to blow with all her might towards the prince; In vain the horse, closing its eyes, bowing its head, straining its chest, through the whirlwind, rain and darkness of the night, the Infidel continues on its way; Overwhelmed by fear, blinded, He rushes again, exhausted, far into the field to rest. The knight wants to turn again - Reflected again, there is no hope! And his head follows him, laughing like crazy, thundering: “Ay, knight! ah, hero! Where are you going? hush, hush, stop! Hey, knight, you'll break your neck for nothing; Don’t be afraid, rider, and please me with at least one blow, Before you kill the horse.” And meanwhile she teased the hero with a terrible language. Ruslan, vexed in the heart of the cut, Silently threatens her with a spear, Shakes it with his free hand, And, trembling, the cold damask steel plunges into the insolent tongue. And the blood ran instantly like a river from the furious throat. From surprise, pain, anger, In a moment of insolence lost, The head looked at the prince, Gnawing iron and turning pale In a calm spirit, heated, So sometimes in the middle of our scene Melpomene’s bad pet, Stunned by a sudden whistle, He doesn’t see anything, He turns pale, forgets his role, He trembles, hanging his head, And, stuttering, falls silent Before the mocking crowd. Taking advantage of the happy moment, To a head engulfed in embarrassment, Like a hawk, the hero flies with a raised, formidable right hand, And hits the head with a heavy mitten on the cheek; And the steppe resounded with a blow; The dewy grass all around was stained with bloody foam, And, staggering, the head turned over, rolled, and the cast-iron helmet clattered. Then, in the empty place, the heroic sword sparkled. Our knight, in joyful trepidation, grabbed Him and to the head He runs through the bloody grass with the cruel intention of cutting off Her nose and ears; Ruslan is already ready to strike, Already swung his broad sword - Suddenly, amazed, he listens to the head of the pleading pitiful moan... And quietly he lowers the sword, In him, the fierce anger dies, And stormy vengeance will fall In the soul, pacified by prayer: So the ice melts on the valley, With a ray noon amazed.
The Head tells that he was once a knight, but the treacherous younger brother Chernomor turned him into the Head, who is doomed to guard the magic sword forever. Ruslan also learns that Chernomor's power lies in his beard. The head gives the sword to Ruslan and hopes that he can defeat Chernomor.
“You have brought me to reason, hero,” the head said with a sigh, “Your right hand has proven that I am guilty before you; From now on I am obedient to you; But, knight, be generous! My lot is worthy of weeping. And I was a daring knight! In the bloody battles of the adversary I have not seen my equal; Happy when I don't have a younger brother as my rival! Insidious, evil Chernomor, You, you are the cause of all my troubles! Our family is a disgrace, Born a dwarf, with a beard, My wondrous growth from his youthful days He could not see without vexation And for that in his soul he began to hate Me, cruel. I was always a little simple, Although tall; and this unfortunate one, having the stupidest stature, is smart as a devil - and terribly angry. Moreover, know, to my misfortune, In his wonderful beard lies the fatal power, And, despising everything in the world, As long as the beard is intact, the Traitor does not fear evil. Here he was one day, with an air of friendship: “Listen,” he slyly told me, “Don’t refuse an important service: I found in black books that behind the eastern mountains, on the quiet shores of the sea, in a remote basement, under locks, a sword is kept - so what? fear! I made out in the magical darkness, That by the will of hostile fate, This sword will be known to us; That he will destroy us both: He will cut off my beard, Your head; judge for yourself how important it is for us to acquire this creation of evil spirits!” “Well, what then? where is the difficulty? “I told Karla, “I’m ready;” I’m going, even beyond the limits of the world.” And he put a pine tree on his shoulder, and sat his brother on the other for the advice of the Villain;
He set out on a long journey, walked, walked and, thank God, as if to spite the prophecy, Everything went happily at first. Beyond the distant mountains We found the fatal cellar; I swept it away with my hands and took out the hidden sword. But no! fate wanted it: A quarrel boiled between us - And it was, I confess, about what! Question: who should own the sword? I argued, Karla got excited; They fought for a long time; Finally, the cunning man came up with a trick, became quiet and seemed to soften. “Let’s leave the useless dispute,” Chernomor told me importantly, “We will disgrace our union; Reason commands us to live in the world; We will let fate decide who this sword belongs to. Let’s both put our ears to the ground (What evil can’t imagine!), And whoever hears the first ringing will wield the sword to the grave.” He said and lay down on the ground. I foolishly also stretched myself; I lie there, don’t hear anything, daring: I’ll deceive him! But he himself was cruelly deceived. The villain, in deep silence, stood up, tiptoed towards me, crept up behind me, swung his hand; Like a whirlwind, a sharp sword whistled, And before I looked back, My head had flown off my shoulders - And the supernatural force in her life stopped the spirit. My frame is overgrown with thorns; Far away, in a country forgotten by people, My unburied ashes have decayed; But the evil dwarf carried Me to this secluded land, Where I would forever guard the sword You took today. O knight! We keep you with fate, Take it, and God be with you! Perhaps on your way you will meet Carl the sorcerer - Oh, if you notice him, take revenge on deceit and malice! And finally I will be happy, I will leave this world in peace - And in my gratitude I will forget Your slap in the face.”
SONG FOUR
After the battle with his head, Ruslan continues his journey north, encountering new obstacles and fearlessly overcoming them.
Ruslan, this unparalleled knight, is a hero at heart, a faithful lover. Tired of stubborn battle, Under the heroic head He tastes sweet sleep. But now, in the early dawn, the quiet horizon shines; All clear; The playful ray of the morning turns the heads of the shaggy forehead into gold. Ruslan gets up, and the zealous horse already rushes the knight like an arrow.
And the days fly by; the fields are turning yellow; Decrepit leaves fall from the trees; In the forests, the autumn wind drowns out the whistle of the feathered singers; A heavy, cloudy fog wraps around the naked hills; Winter is approaching - Ruslan bravely continues his journey to the far north; Every day he encounters new obstacles: Now he fights with a hero, Now with a witch, now with a giant, Now on a moonlit night he sees, As if through a magical dream, Surrounded by a gray fog, Mermaids, quietly swinging on the branches, a young knight With a sly smile on lips beckon without saying a word... But, by secret providence we keep, the fearless knight is unharmed; Desire lies dormant in his soul, He doesn’t see them, he doesn’t listen to them, Lyudmila alone is with him everywhere.
SONG FIFTH
Ruslan challenges Chernomor to a menacing battle.
Yes, but that’s not the point! But who blew the trumpet? Who called the sorcerer to a terrible flogging? Who scared the sorcerer? Ruslan. He, burning with revenge, reached the abode of the villain. The knight is already standing under the mountain, The calling horn is howling like a storm, The impatient horse is boiling and digging snow with its powerful hoof. The prince is waiting for Karla. Suddenly he was struck by an invisible hand on his strong steel helmet; The blow fell like thunder; Ruslan lifts his dim gaze and sees - right above his head - Karl Chernomor is flying with a raised, terrible mace. Covering himself with his shield, he bent down, shook his sword and swung it;
Ruslan manages to grab Chernomor by the beard, he flies under the clouds along with Ruslan.
But he soared under the clouds; He disappeared for a moment - and Shumya flies from above towards the prince again. The nimble knight flew away, And the Sorcerer fell into the snow with a fatal swing - and sat down there; Ruslan, without saying a word, Gets off his horse, hurries towards him, Caught him, grabs him by the beard, The wizard struggles, groans, And suddenly he flies away with Ruslan... The zealous horse looks after him; Already a sorcerer under the clouds; The hero hangs on his beard; They fly over dark forests, They fly over wild mountains, They fly over the abyss of the sea; Growing stiff from the stress, Ruslan holds on to the villain’s beard with his stubborn hand. Meanwhile, weakening in the air and amazed at the Russian power, the Wizard insidiously says to the proud Ruslan: “Listen, prince! I will stop harming you; Loving young courage, I will forget everything, I will forgive you, I will go down - but only with an agreement...” “Be silent, treacherous sorcerer! - Our knight interrupted: - With Chernomor, With the tormentor of his wife, Ruslan does not know the contract! This formidable sword will punish the thief. Fly even to the night star, And you will be without a beard!” Fear surrounds Chernomor; In annoyance, in mute grief, In vain the tired dwarf shakes the tired dwarf with his long beard: Ruslan does not let her go and sometimes plucks her hair.
On the third day of the flight, Chernomor asks for mercy and humbly flies back home. Finding himself on the ground, Ruslan cuts off Chernomor’s beard.
The sorcerer carries the hero for two days, On the third he asks for mercy: “O knight, have pity on me; I can barely breathe; no more urine; Leave me life, I am in your will; Tell me, I’ll go down wherever you want...” “Now you’re ours: yeah, you’re trembling! Humble yourself, submit to Russian power! Take me to my Lyudmila."
Chernomor humbly listens; He set off home with the knight; He flies and instantly finds himself among his terrible mountains. Then Ruslan took the sword of the slain head with one hand and, grabbing the beard with the other, cut it off like a handful of grass. “Know ours! - he said cruelly, - What, predator, where is your beauty? Where is the strength? - and the tall gray hair is tied onto the helmet; Whistling he calls the dashing horse; A cheerful horse flies and neighs; Our knight Karla, barely alive, puts it in his knapsack behind his saddle, And he himself, fearing the moment of waste, Hastens to the top of the steep mountain, Reached, and with a joyful soul Flies to the magical chambers.
Ruslan spends a long time looking for Lyudmila in the castle, accidentally knocks off the invisibility cap and sees the sleeping maiden. Ruslan calls Lyudmila, but cannot wake him up.
In the distance, seeing a big-haired helmet, the guarantee of a fatal victory, before him a wonderful swarm of araps, crowds of fearful slaves, like ghosts, running from all sides - and disappeared. He walks alone among the proud temples, calling his dear wife - Only the echo of the silent vaults gives Ruslan a voice; In the excitement of impatient feelings, He opens the doors to the garden - He walks, walks - and does not find; The confused gaze looks around - Everything is dead: the groves are silent, the gazebos are empty; on the rapids, Along the banks of the stream, in the valleys, There is no trace of Lyudmila anywhere, And the ear does not hear anything. A sudden chill embraces the prince, the light darkens in his eyes, gloomy thoughts arose in his mind... “Perhaps grief... gloomy captivity... A minute... waves...” He is immersed in these dreams. With silent melancholy the knight bowed his head; He is tormented by involuntary fear; He is motionless, like a dead stone; The mind is darkened; wild flame and the poison of desperate love are already flowing in his blood. It seemed that the shadow of the beautiful princess touched the tremulous lips... And suddenly, frantic, terrible, the knight rushes through the gardens; He calls Lyudmila with a cry, tears off the cliffs from the hills, destroys everything, crushes everything with a sword - gazebos, groves fall, trees, bridges dive in the waves, the steppe is exposed all around! Far away the rumbles repeat And the roar, and the crackling, and the noise, and the thunder; Everywhere the sword rings and whistles, The charming land is devastated - The mad knight is looking for a victim, With a swing to the right, to the left he cuts through the Desert air... And suddenly - an unexpected blow The farewell gift of Chernomor is knocked down from the invisible princess... The power of magic instantly disappeared: Lyudmila was revealed in the nets! Not believing his own eyes, intoxicated with unexpected happiness, our knight falls at the feet of his faithful, unforgettable friend, kisses hands, tears the nets, sheds tears of love and delight, calls her - but the maiden is dozing, eyes and lips are closed, and a voluptuous dream of her young breast rises.
Ruslan hears Finn's voice and, on his advice, takes his sleeping wife to Kyiv.
Ruslan does not take his eyes off her, He is tormented by grief again... But suddenly an acquaintance hears a voice, The voice of the virtuous Finn:
“Take courage, prince! Go on the way back with sleeping Lyudmila; Fill your heart with new strength, Be faithful to love and honor. Heavenly thunder will burst out in response to malice, And silence will reign - And in bright Kyiv, the princess will rise before Vladimir from an enchanted sleep.”
Ruslan, animated by this voice, takes his wife into his arms, And quietly, with a precious burden, He leaves the heights and descends into a secluded valley.
In silence, with Karla in the saddle, he rode on his way; Lyudmila lies in his arms, fresh as the spring dawn, and leans her calm face onto the hero’s shoulder. With hair twisted into a ring, the desert breeze plays; How often does her chest sigh! How often does a quiet face glow like an instant rose! Love and the secret dream of Ruslan bring her an image, And with a languid whisper, the lips of the Spouse pronounce the name... In sweet oblivion, he catches Her magical breath, A smile, tears, a gentle moan And the excitement of sleepy breasts...
Ruslan meets the head, talks about how he punished the villain dwarf and shows him Chernomor. The head recognizes his younger brother with horror, in rage and confusion mutters an inarticulate reproach and dies. Her long suffering ends.
Before them lies a plain, Where spruce sprouts sprout up; And a formidable hill in the distance The round top of Heaven turns black against the bright blue. Ruslan looks - and guesses what is driving up to his head; The greyhound horse ran faster; It’s a miracle of miracles; She looks with a motionless eye; Her hair is like a black forest, overgrown on her high brow; The cheeks are devoid of life, covered with leaden pallor; The huge lips are open, the teeth are huge and cramped... Above the half-dead head the last day was already weighing heavily. The brave knight flew to her with Lyudmila, with Karla at his back. He shouted: “Hello, head! I'm here! your traitor is punished! Look: here he is, our villain prisoner! And the prince’s proud words suddenly revived her, For a moment they awakened her feeling, She woke up as if from a dream, She looked up, groaned terribly... She recognized the knight And recognized her brother with horror. The nostrils flared; on the cheeks the crimson fire was still born, and in the dying eyes the final anger was depicted. In confusion, in a silent rage, She gnashed her teeth, And to her brother, with a cold tongue, she babbled an inarticulate reproach... Already at that very hour, her long suffering ended: The instantaneous flame of her forehead went out, Her heavy breathing faded, Her huge gaze rolled back, And soon the prince and Chernomor Beheld the shudder of death... She fell into eternal sleep. The knight left in silence; The trembling dwarf behind the saddle did not dare to breathe, did not move, and fervently prayed to the demons with a sorcerer’s tongue.
Ruslan meets Ratmir.
Ruslan stopped his horse. Everything was quiet, serene; From the dawning day the Valley with the coastal grove Through the morning smoke shone. Ruslan lays his wife down in the meadow, sits down next to her, sighs With sweet and dumb despondency; And suddenly he sees before him the humble sail of the shuttle and hears the fisherman’s song above the quiet river. Having spread the net over the waves, the Fisherman, leaning on his oars, swims to the wooded shores, to the threshold of the humble hut. And the good prince Ruslan sees: the shuttle is sailing to the shore; The Young Maiden runs out of the dark house; slender figure, hair, carelessly loose, smile, quiet gaze of her eyes, both chest and shoulders are naked, everything is sweet, everything captivates in her. And so they, hugging each other, sit down by the cool waters, and the hour of carefree leisure comes for them with love. But in silent amazement Who does our young knight recognize in the happy fisherman? The Khazar Khan, chosen by glory, Ratmir, in love, in a bloody war, His young rival, Ratmir in the serene desert, forgot his glory with Lyudmila And betrayed them forever In the arms of a tender friend.
Ratmir admits that he is tired of the abusive fame and is now happy to live as a peaceful hermit with his beloved friend.
The hero approached, and instantly the Hermit recognizes Ruslan, gets up and flies. There was a cry... And the prince hugged the young khan. “What do I see? - asked the hero, “Why are you here, why did you leave the Anxiety of life in battle And the sword that you glorified?” “My friend,” answered the fisherman, “The soul is tired of the abusive glory of the Empty and disastrous ghost. Believe me: innocent fun, Love and peaceful oak forests are a hundred times dearer to the heart. Now, having lost the thirst for war, I stopped paying tribute to madness, And, rich in true happiness, I forgot everything, dear comrade, Everything, even Lyudmila’s charms.” “Dear Khan, I am very glad! “Ruslan said, “she’s with me.” “Is it possible, by what fate? What do I hear? Russian princess... She is with you, where is she? Let me... but no, I'm afraid of betrayal; My friend is sweet to me; She was the culprit of my happy change; She is my life, she is my joy! She returned to me again My lost youth, And peace, and pure love. In vain did the lips of young sorceresses promise me happiness; Twelve virgins loved me: I left them for her; The cheerful man left them, In the shade of the guardian oak trees; He laid down both the sword and the heavy helmet, Forgot both glory and enemies. The hermit, peaceful and unknown, Remained in the happy wilderness, With you, dear friend, charming friend, With you, the light of my soul!
The dear shepherdess listened to the friends' open conversation, and, fixing her gaze on the khan, smiled and sighed.
The fisherman and the knight sat on the shores until the dark night, with soul and heart on their lips - the hours flew by invisibly. The forest is black, the mountain is dark; The moon rises - everything became quiet; It's time for the hero to hit the road. Having quietly thrown a blanket over the sleeping maiden, Ruslan goes and mounts his horse; The thoughtfully silent khan, with his soul, strives to follow him, wishes Ruslan happiness, victories, both glory and love... And revives the thoughts of his proud, young years with involuntary sadness...
Ruslan falls asleep, has a prophetic dream about Farlaf and Lyudmila, but is unable to wake up.
The quiet valley was dozing, Clothed in fog at night, The moon in the darkness ran from cloud to cloud and illuminated the mound with an instant brilliance. Under him, in silence, Ruslan sat with his usual melancholy Before the princess who had fallen asleep. He thought deeply, Dreams flew after dreams, And sleep unnoticeably blew over him with cold wings. He looked at the maiden with dim eyes in a languid drowsiness, and, with his weary head, bowing at her feet, fell asleep.
And the hero has a prophetic dream: He sees that the princess stands motionless and pale above a terrible abyss... And suddenly Lyudmila disappears, he stands alone above the abyss... A familiar voice, an inviting moan flies out of the quiet abyss... Ruslan strives for his wife; He flies headlong in the deep darkness... And suddenly he sees in front of him: Vladimir, in the high grid, In the circle of gray-haired heroes, Between twelve sons, With a crowd of named guests, Sits at the battle tables. And the old prince is just as angry as on the terrible day of parting, And everyone sits motionless, Not daring to break the silence. The cheerful noise of the guests has died down, The circular bowl does not move... And among the guests he sees Rogdai, slain in battle: Killed, he sits as if alive; He drinks cheerfully from a foamed glass and does not look at the astonished Ruslan. The prince sees the young khan, friends and foes... and suddenly the fluent sound of the gusli was heard and the voice of the prophetic Bayan, the Singer of heroes and amusements. Farlaf enters the grid, he leads Lyudmila by the hand; But the old man, without rising from his seat, is silent, bowing his head sadly, The princes, the boyars - all are silent, the emotional movements of the cut. And everything disappeared - the cold of death Envelops the sleeping hero. He is heavily immersed in a slumber, He sheds painful tears, In excitement he thinks: this is a dream! He languishes, but alas, he is unable to interrupt the ominous dream.
Farlaf, with the help of Naina, finds the sleeping Ruslan, plunges the sword into his chest three times and fearfully rushes into the distance with Lyudmila.
The moon shines slightly over the mountain; The groves are enveloped in darkness, the Valley is in dead silence... The traitor rides on a horse.
A clearing opened before him; He sees a gloomy mound; Ruslan sleeps at Lyudmila’s feet, And the horse walks around the mound. Farlaf looks with fear; The witch disappears in the fog, Her heart froze and trembles, She drops the bridle from her cold hands, She quietly draws her sword, Preparing to cut the knight in two without a fight... I drove up to him. The hero's horse, sensing the enemy, began to boil, neighed and stamped. The sign is in vain! Ruslan doesn’t listen; a terrible dream, Like a burden, weighed down on him!.. The traitor, encouraged by the witch, thrusts thrice cold steel into the Hero’s chest with a despicable hand... And fearfully rushes into the distance with his precious prey.
Ruslan woke up in the morning, barely got up and fell lifeless.
All night the unconscious Ruslan lay in the darkness under the mountain. The hours flew by. Blood flowed like a river from inflamed wounds. In the morning, opening his misty gaze, letting out a heavy, weak groan, he rose with effort, looked, bowed his head, and fell motionless, lifeless.
SONG SIX
Ruslan lies dead in an open field.
But what did I say? Where is Ruslan? He lies dead in an open field: His blood no longer flows, A greedy corvid flies over him, The horn is silent, the armor motionless, The shaggy helmet does not move!
A horse walks around Ruslan, Hanging its proud head, The fire has disappeared from his eyes! He doesn’t wave his golden mane, He doesn’t amuse himself, he doesn’t gallop, And he waits for Ruslan to rise up... But the prince’s cold sleep is strong, And for a long time his shield will not strike.
Chernomor rejoices when he sees the murdered hero.
And Chernomor? He is behind the saddle, in a knapsack, forgotten by the witch, still doesn’t know anything; Tired, sleepy and angry, the Princess, my hero, silently scolded him out of boredom; Without hearing anything for a long time, the Wizard looked out - oh wonder! He sees the hero killed; The drowned man lies in blood; Lyudmila is gone, everything is empty in the field; The villain trembles with joy and thinks: it’s done, I’m free! But old Karla was wrong.
Finn fills the jugs with living and dead water and ends up in a valley where Ruslan lies motionless.
In the silent wilderness of the flammable steppes, Behind the distant chain of wild mountains, Homes of the winds, rattling storms, Where even a witch’s bold gaze is afraid to penetrate at a late hour, A wonderful valley lurks, And in that valley there are two springs: One flows like a living wave, Murmuring merrily over the stones, That one pours like dead water; Everything is quiet all around, the winds are sleeping, the spring coolness does not blow, the hundred-year-old pines do not rustle, the birds do not fly, the deer does not dare to drink from secret waters in the summer heat; A couple of spirits from the beginning of the world, Silent in the bosom of the world, Guarding the dense shore... The hermit appeared before them with two empty jugs; The spirits interrupted their long-standing sleep and went away full of fear. Bending down, he immerses the Vessels in the virgin waves; Filled, disappeared in the air And found himself in two moments In the valley where Ruslan lay In the blood, silent, motionless;
Finn sprinkles Ruslan with dead and living water, and he comes to life. The old man directs him to defend Kyiv and gives him a magic ring to remove the sleeping spell from Lyudmila.
And the old man stood over the knight, And sprinkled with dead water, And the wounds shone instantly, And the corpse blossomed with wonderful beauty; Then the old man sprinkled Hero with living water, And vigorous, full of new strength, Trembling with young life, Ruslan gets up and looks at the clear day with greedy eyes, Like an ugly dream, like a shadow, The past flashes before him. But where is Lyudmila? He's alone! His heart, flaring up, freezes. Suddenly the knight stood up; the prophetic Finn calls him and hugs him: “Fate has come true, oh my son! Bliss awaits you; The bloody feast calls you; Your formidable sword will strike with disaster; A gentle peace will descend on Kyiv, And there she will appear to you. Take the treasured ring, touch Lyudmila’s brow with it, and the powers of the secret spell will disappear, your enemies will be confused by your face, peace will come, anger will perish. Both of you deserve happiness! Forgive me for a long time, my knight! Give me your hand... there, behind the door of the coffin - Not before - we’ll meet you!” He said and disappeared. Intoxicated with ardent and dumb Delight, Ruslan, awakened to life, Raises his hands after him. But nothing is heard anymore! Ruslan is alone in a deserted field; Jumping, with Karla behind the saddle, Ruslan’s impatient horse runs and neighs, waving his mane; The prince is already ready, he is already on horseback, he is already flying alive and well through the fields, through the oak groves.
The Kievans fought with the Pechenegs all day, but no one was able to win. The next morning, the people of Kiev woke up to the sound of battle - Ruslan on horseback was chopping and stabbing his frightened enemies.
The morning shadow grew pale, the wave became silver in the stream, a doubtful day was born in the foggy east. The hills and forests became clearer, And the skies woke up. Still in inactive peace The battlefield slumbered; Suddenly the dream was interrupted: the enemy camp rose with noisy alarm, A sudden cry of battle broke out; The hearts of the people of Kiev were troubled; They run in discordant crowds and see: in the field between the enemies, Shining in armor as if on fire, A wonderful warrior on a horse rushes like a thunderstorm, stabs, chops, blows a roaring horn, flying... That was Ruslan. Like God's thunder, Our knight fell on the infidel; He prowls with Karla behind the saddle Among the frightened camp.
The Kievans defeat the Pechenegs. Ruslan enters Lyudmila’s mansion and uses the ring to awaken her from her sleep.
Wherever a formidable sword whistles, Wherever an angry horse rushes, Everywhere heads fly off the shoulders And with a cry, formation upon formation falls; In an instant, the battle meadow is covered with hills of bloody bodies, Living, crushed, headless, A mass of spears, arrows, chain mail. To the sound of a trumpet, to the voice of battle, the mounted squads of the Slavs rushed in the footsteps of the hero, fought... perish, infidel! The horror of the Pechenegs is overwhelming; Pets of stormy raids Call the scattered horses, They dare not resist anymore And with a wild cry in the dusty field They flee from the Kyiv swords, Doomed to be sacrificed to hell; The Russian sword executes their hosts; Kyiv rejoices... But the mighty hero flies through the city; In his right hand he holds a victorious sword; The spear shines like a star; Blood flows from the copper chain mail; A beard curls on the helmet; He flies, inspired by hope, through the noisy haystacks to the prince's house. The people, intoxicated with delight, crowd around with shouts, and the prince was revived by joy. He enters the silent mansion, Where Lyudmila is dozing in a wonderful dream; Vladimir, immersed in thought, stood despondent at her feet. He was alone. His friends were drawn to the bloody fields by the War. But with him Farlaf, shunning glory, far from enemy swords, despising the worries of the camp in his soul, stood guard at the door. As soon as the villain recognized Ruslan, his blood cooled, his gaze went out, his voice froze in his open lips, and he fell senseless to his knees... Treason awaits a worthy execution! But, remembering the secret gift of the ring, Ruslan flies to the sleeping Lyudmila, Touches her calm face with a trembling hand... And a miracle: the young princess, Sighing, opened her bright eyes! It seemed as if she had marveled at such a long night; It seemed that some kind of dream was tormenting her with an unclear dream, and suddenly she found out - it was him! And the prince is in the arms of a beautiful woman. Having been resurrected with a fiery soul, Ruslan does not see, does not heed, And the old man in mute joy, Sobbing, hugs his dear ones.
