Lyrics Пушкин А.С. - Медный всадник Вступление

On the shore of desert waves
He stood, the thoughts of the great are full,
He looked into the distance. Before him widely
The river was carried; poor cousin
On it aspired lonely.
On mossy, steep banks
Blackened huts here and there,
Shelter of the poor chuhontsa;
And the forest, unknown to the rays
In the fog of the hidden sun,
All around it was making a noise.
       And he thought:
We will sail off the Swede,
Here the city will be laid
To the evil arrogant neighbor.
Nature here is destined to us
To Europe to cut through a window, 1
It is hard to become the foot of the sea.
Here on new waves to him
All the flags will be visited by us,
And zapiruem in the open.
A hundred years have passed, and a young city,
Full-fledged countries of beauty and wonder,
From the darkness of the forests,
He ascended magnificently, proudly;
Where before the Finnish fisherman,
The sad stepson of nature,
One at low coasts
Threw in unknown waters
His old seine, now there
Along the lively banks
The hulks are slender
Palaces and towers; ships
A crowd from all corners of the earth
To the rich quays are eager;
The Neva was dressed in granite;
The bridges hung over the waters;
Dark green gardens
It covered the island,
And before the younger capital
Old Moscow has faded,
As before the new queen
A porphyry widow.
I love you, Peter's creation,
I love your stern, slender appearance,
Neva's power flow,
Its coastal granite,
Your fences are cast iron,
Your Thoughtful Nights
Transparent dusk, glitterless moonlight,
When I'm in my room
I write, I read without the lamp,
And the sleeping masses are clear
Deserted streets, and bright
Admiralty Needle,
And, not letting the darkness of the night
On the golden skies,
One dawn to change another
He hurries, giving the night half an hour2.
I love your cruel winter
The motionless air and frost,
Running sledges along the Neva wide,
Girls' faces are brighter than roses,
And the brilliance, and the noise, and the chatter of the balls,
And in the hour of idle time
The hissing of foamy wine glasses
And punch the flame blue.
I love belligerence
The Mars fields,
Infantry horses and horses
Monotonous beauty,
In their slender build order
The flapping of these banners is victorious,
The shining of the caps of these brass,
On through the shot in battle.
I love, the military capital,
Your strongholds are smoke and thunder,
When the full Queen
Gives the son to the royal house,
Or victory over the enemy
Russia is again triumphant,
Or, hacking your blue ice,
Neva to the seas it bears
And, sensing the days of the spring, rejoices.
Beautify, hail Petrov, and stand
Indestructible as Russia,
Yes, it's the same with you
And the vanquished element;
Enemy and captivity old
Let the Finnish waves forget
And futile anger will not be
Alarm the eternal sleep of Peter!
It was a terrible time,
About it fresh memories ...
About her, my friends, for you
I will begin my narrative.
My story will be sad.