And dwell, to no one known by name,

With her I love...."

Lpon him gazing,

The shepherdess ne er left his side;

Now smiled she sweetly, now she sighed....

On, on, unseen, the hours went racing.

Their hearts by friendship warmed, till night

Set in, o'er all its patterns tracing,

The fisher sat beside the knight....

It's still and dark. The half-moon's light,

Pale just at first, is brighter growing.

Time to be off! A cover throwing

With gentle hand o'er his young bride,

Ruslan goes off to mount his steed.

The khan, bemused, preoccupied,

In spirit follows him; indeed,

Good luck in all his daring ventures

He wishes him and happiness

And his proud dreams and past adventres

Recalls with fleeting wistfulness....

Why is it Fortune has not granted

My fickle Lyre the right to praise

Heroic deeds alone? Why can't I

Of love and friendship, that these days

Are out of fashion, chant? A bard

Of Truth, why must I (God, it's hard!)

Denounce spite, venom, vice, am fated

In my sincere and artless songs

To bare for those to come the wrongs

By crafty demons perpetrated?

Farlaf, Ludmila's worthless wooer,

A wretch, still eager to pursue her,

But all his dreams of glory gone,

Out in the wilds lived, isolated