But long the Hetman has not slept;

His heart is drear, the choking grief

Mounts high, his breath comes thick and hard:

Silent he sets the saddle right,

And he and Charles pursue their flight.

At last they cross the border-point;

The Hetman's eyes are dimmed with tears,

As home and country fade from view.

THE BRONZE HORSEMAN.

A POEM IN TWO CANTOS.

Translated by Charles Edward Turner Written in 1833 while Pushkin was staying on his family's estate at Boldino, this famous ballad concerns the equestrian statue of Peter the Great in Saint Petersburg. It is widely considered to be the poet's most successful narrative poem, having a lasting impact on Russian literature. Due solely to the influence of the poem, the statue is now simply known as the 'Bronze Horseman'.

Owing to censorship, only the Prologue was allowed to be published during the poet's lifetime, appearing in 1834 under the title Petersburg. An extract from a poem. The narrative poem was first published in full in 1837, immediately following Pushkin's death. The Bronze Horseman was printed in the journal Sovremennik, which Pushkin had established the year before. Even then, the censors demanded certain alterations to the text.

Divided into three sections, with a short introduction and two cantos, The Bronze Horseman opens with a part-fictional history of Saint Petersburg. In the first two stanzas, Peter the Great stands at the edge of the River Neva in an uninhabited area, where he conceives the idea of a city that will threaten the Swedes and open a 'window to the West'.

The Bronze Horseman, Saint Petersburg CONTENTS.

THE BRONZE HORSEMAN. PROLOGUE.

THE BRONZE HORSEMAN. CANTO THE FIRST.

THE BRONZE HORSEMAN. CANTO THE SECOND.

Peter the Great envisioning Saint Petersburg by the River Neva THE BRONZE HORSEMAN. PROLOGUE.

On the waste shore of raving waves

He stood, with high and dread thoughts filled,

And gazed afar. Before him rolled

The river wide, a fragile bark

Its tortuous path slow making.

Upon the moss-grown banks and swamps

Stood far asunder smoky huts,

The homes of Finnish fishers poor;

Whilst all around, a forest wild,

Unpierced by misty-circled sun,

Murmured loud.

Gazing far, he thought:

From hence we can the Swede best threat;

Here must I found a city strong,

That shall our haughty foe bring ill;

It is by nature's law decreed,

That here we break a window through,

And boldly into Europe look,

And on the sea with sure foot stand;

By water path as yet unknown,

Shall ships from distant ports arrive,