Ruslan's Battle with the Head

Ruslan's Battle with the Head. Nikolai Ge, Ivan Kramskoy.

Pensive rides our Ruslan
And sees: through the night mist
Far off a huge hill looms black,
And something dreadful snores.
He draws nearer to the hill, nearer, and hears:
The marvellous hill seems to breathe.
Ruslan listens and gazes
Undaunted, with a tranquil spirit;
But, twitching a fearful ear,
His horse balks, trembles,
Shakes its stubborn head,
And its mane rises on end.
Suddenly the hill, palely lit
In the mist by the cloudless moon,
Grows clear; the brave prince looks,
And sees a marvel before him.
Shall I find colours and words?
Before him is a living head.
Enormous eyes are bound in sleep;
It snores, swaying its plumed helmet,
And the feathers in the dark heights,
Like shadows, move, fluttering.
In its terrible beauty
Towering over the gloomy steppe,
Surrounded by silence,
Warden of the nameless wilderness,
It stands before Ruslan,
A vast mass, menacing and misty.
In perplexity he wishes
To break the mysterious sleep.
Examining the wonder at close quarters,
He rode all round the head
And stopped silently before its nose;
He tickles its nostrils with his spear,
And, wrinkling up, the head yawned,
Opened its eyes and sneezed…
A whirlwind rose, the steppe shook,
Dust flew up; from lashes, from moustache,
From brows a flock of owls flew off;
The silent groves awoke,
The echo sneezed; the spirited horse
Neighed, leapt, sprang away,
The knight himself barely kept his seat,
And a noisy voice rang out behind:
"Where are you off to, reckless knight?
Go back, I am not joking!
I'll swallow the insolent fellow in one gulp!"
Ruslan looked back with disdain,
Held in his horse with the reins
And smiled with a proud air.
"What do you want from me?"
Frowning, the head cried out,
"Fate has sent me a fine guest!
Listen, be gone!
I want to sleep, it is night now,
Farewell!"

Literal translation

A. S. Pushkin, Ruslan and Lyudmila