Free Works of Alexander Pushkin by Alexander Pushkin Page A

afar watched all,
But when the last handful of dust
Over the sleeping dead was cast,
In silence low he bent his head,
And prone on grass fell from the mound.
The old man then approached and said:
“Go, leave us now, thou haughty man!
We wild folk have no law to bind.
To torture or to punish men;
We need no sinner’s blood, or groans,
Nor can we with a murd’rer five.
Thou art not born for wild free will,
Thou wouldst thyself alone be free;
Thy voice will strike but terror here
Among the good and free in soul;
Harsh thou art and rash: so, leave us!
Farewell, and peace abide with thee!”
    He spake, and now the busy crowd
The nomad camp begin to raise:
They hasten forth, and soon are lost
To view. One van alone, with roof
Of canvas torn, remains behind,
And stands upon the fatal field.
As when, before cold winter conies,
At early hour, on misty morn,
A flock of cranes will from the field
Rise up on high with eager cry,
And quick begin their southern flight,
One wretched bird, the sportsman prey,
With wounded wing that helpless hangs,
Is left behind to pine and die.
Though night came on, within the van
None cared to kindle light or fire,
And none beneath the tattered roof
Sought rest or sleep till morning broke.
    EPILOGUE.
    The magic charm of song divine
Brings back to lite the olden days,
Writes anew on memory’s page
The record of past joys and griefs.
In the land where centuries long
The din of war not once was hushed;
Where Russian arms supremely marked
The lawful bounds of Stamboul’s sway;
And where the mighty eagle shook
His proud, wide wings o’er triumphs won;
‘Twas there, the wild steppe stretching round,
On borders of our ancient rule,
 I met the gipsy waggon-vans,
The sons of freedom uncontrolled.
I long in idle whim pursued
Through barren waste and forest wild
The gay and lawless gipsy band.
Their modest, simple fare I shared,
And slept before their flaming fires.
I loved the noise of their loud songs.
And still the name of fair Marie
Haunts and startles my restless sleep.
    And yet, with you, free nature’s sons.
True happiness can ne’er be found;
And humblest tents are oft the haunt
Of troubled dreams and hopes destroyed;
And nomad camps, though pitched in wilds,
From nature ravin give no shield;
There, too, will human passions rage,
And naught protect men from their-fate.

POLTAVA

    A POEM IN THREE CANTOS.
    Translated by Charles Edward Turner
    This narrative poem was written in 1828 and concerns Ivan Mazepa’s actions in the Battle of Poltava between Sweden and Russia.  The poem intertwines a love plot between Mazepa and the beautiful Maria, with an account of Mazepa’s betrayal of Peter I and the Tsar’s ultimate victory. The poem is celebrated for its depth of characterisation and employs the use of several different genres, inspiring the composer Tchaikovsky to compose the 1884 opera Mazeppa .
    Poltava opens with an epigraph from Byron’s 1819 ballad Mazeppa , which depicts the Hetman as a Romantic hero, exiled from Poland for his love affair with a married noblewoman. Pushkin follows this epigraph with a passionate dedication to an anonymous lover. The poem is divided into three cantos of equal length. The first canto opens on the estate of the nobleman Vasily Kochubei and describes Kochubei’s beautiful daughter Maria, who has fallen in love with the Hetman Mazepa.  As he is her godfather and much older than her, they decide to keep their love for each other secret. However, they are soon discovered and are forced to elope…

Ivan Stepanovych Mazepa (1639 – 1709), the protagonist of the poem

The Battle of Poltava, 27 June 1709

POLTAVA. CANTO THE FIRST.
    Rich and famed is Kotzubei.
Boundless and large his spacious fields,
Whereon his droves of horses graze
At their free will and all unwatched.
Around Poltava’s fairest plains
Stretch far his gardens and his parks;
And in his house are treasures rare
Satins, furs and dishes silver,
Exposed to view or safely locked.
But Kotzubei, rich and