No man understands a deep book until he has seen and lived at least part of its contents. - Ezra Pound

The captive


Break my chains and ope my dungeon,
Let me see the light of day;
Call you nigh a dark-eyed maiden
And a black-maned steed, I pray.
First I'll kiss the young maid sweetly,
Then upon the steed's back fleetly
Spring, and with a shout and cry,
'Cross the green steppe wind-like fly.

Dark my prison is and sombre,
And the door is locked and barred.
Sad the maid sits in her chamber,
From the one who loves her far;
And my good steed 'thout a bridle
In the green field wanders idle
Or, up dale and then down hill,
Head held high, trots at his will.

All alone am I, and trying
Is my lot: on bare stone walls
From a smoke-stained lamp a dying,
Cheerless ray, uncertain, falls;
While behind the door the faceless
Sentry walks, his measured paces,
That no warmth or comfort bring,
In the silence echoing.


[English] [Russian TRANS | KOI8 | ALT | WIN | MAC | ISO5]
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Apukhtin A. N.
Baratynsky E.A.
Batyushkov K.N.
Benediktov V.
Del'vig A.
Fet A.
Grebeonka E.
Griboedov A.
Grigoriev A.A.
Koltsov A.
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Kuyhelbeker V.
Lermontov M.
Maykov A.
Mey L.
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Ogarev N.
Pavlova K.
Pleshcheev A.
Polonsky Y.
Pushkin A.
Rostopchina E.
Soloviev V.S.
Surikov I.
Tolstoy A.
Tyutchev F.
Yazykov N.M.
Zhukovsky V.
Zhemchuzhnikov A.