о тщете - II

https://www.culture.ru/poems/5061/ruslan-i-lyudmila-poema

what is to tell for, dear son,
which is there no strength to retell?
ah, even now, being one,
with soul asleep, by doors of the grave,
I re-feel bitterness, and sometimes,
when of the past the thought is born,
a heavy tear rolls coming down
by my gray beard, grown tired and long.

but listen: in my homeland
between the desert fishermen
amazing science hidden lurks.
beneath the roof of timeless still,
among the forests, in the wildness,
gray-haired sages and wizards live;
to substances of wisdom highest
all their thoughts are thrown in;
all hear their dreadful sound,
what was and what will be again,
to their awesome will are subject
and life, and death, and love itself.

and I, of love a greedy seeker,
decided in uncalmable grieving
to draw Naina to with spells,   

I would ignite love by enchants.
I hasted into arms of freedom,
into the solitary dark of woods;
and there, in the sorcerers' school,
I spent uncountable years off.
The long-desired moment stepped,
I comprehended by a bright thought
the dire and obscure nature's germ/base:
I learned the power of pishogue/witchcraft.
The crown of love, the crown of wishes!
Naina, now you are mine!
mine is the victory and prize.
but really the true winner
was fatum, my pursuer steady.

embraced with longheld young hope dreams, 
enravished by an ardent wishes,
I cast spells swiftly,
call the spirits - in the mirk
the arrow rushed thunder-streaking
the magic whirlwind raised a howl,
the ground quaked under sole...
and suddenly before me shown
the granny, decrepit, silvered,
with sunken eyes sparkling glisten,
ahumped, head shaking, nose bowed.
a disappointing decay picture.
ah, knight, alas, that was Naina!..
I filled with horror and kept mute,
beholding of a terrible phantom,
I still did not believe, in doubt,
and burst with crying, sharply shouted:
“how could that! ah, Naina, are you!
Naina, where is your charms?
oh, tell me, did this by the mighty skies
you have been changed so terrifying?
say, how long ago, leaving laic,
have I broke up with heartly dear?
how long back?.. " "flatly forty years, -
a fatal answer so was listened, -
today the seventy I beat off.
what could one do, - to me she squeaks, -
the years flew by just like a mob.
there has passed both my and your spring -
we both had time for getting old.
but, listen: it is not so trouble,
the loss of fickle youth and young charms.
of course,  I'm slightly hoary now,
a little, maybe, is a hunchbacked;
not what I was in former times,
not so agile, not so lovely;
but (old chatterer winked and loaded more)
reveal you the secret: I am a sorceress!"

and it was really as put.
before her, speechless and immobile,
I was a complete helpless fool,
with all my sagery and knowledge.

#А_С_П_ASCII_ANSI    #a_ex