http://lukoshko.net/pushk/pushk2.shtml
there is a green oak by a hid cove;
there is a gold chain on that tree;
the cat the book-wise, all day round,
walks on that chain, ring after ring;
while turning right - a song he's singing,
to left - he is telling fairy tales.
it's miracle place, there wood spirit lives,
a dryad sits among the branches.
there mysterious beasts' markings
are on unknowable paths-trails;
there is a chicken-trotters hut
with no windows and gates;
there dale and bush are full of wraith beings,
there waves would gush up on a day-spring
onto a sandy starky shore,
and thirty knights in all their glory,
would come out from the clear waters,
and their ocean mentor, sure;
up there young prince, by occasion,
defeats a powerful king;
there high in clouds, for amazement,
above the forests, crossing seas,
a wizard wafts a warrior-hero;
there in a dungeon a maiden laments,
and fulvous wolf serves her reliablly;
there mortar bearing old wicked sage
walks slow pacing by itself;
there ancient deathless dries over his golds,
there legends scents, there fancies sounds;
I wish I'd be there, drinking mead,
I'd wish to see that oak by seashore,
I'd like to sit near magic tree,
to listen to that Cat the Knowing.
#A_С_П_ASCII_ANSI #a_ex
// http://www.stihi.ru/2019/01/26/994
-- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lXZ6leHTf6o