I met the gipsy waggon-vans,

The sons of freedom uncontrolled.

I long in idle whim pursued

Through barren waste and forest wild

The gay and lawless gipsy band.

Their modest, simple fare I shared,

And slept before their flaming fires.

I loved the noise of their loud songs.

And still the name of fair Marie

Haunts and startles my restless sleep.

And yet, with you, free nature's sons.

True happiness can ne'er be found;

And humblest tents are oft the haunt

Of troubled dreams and hopes destroyed;

And nomad camps, though pitched in wilds,

From nature ravin give no shield;

There, too, will human passions rage,

And naught protect men from their-fate.

POLTAVA.

A POEM IN THREE CANTOS.

Translated by Charles Edward Turner This narrative poem was written in 1828 and concerns Ivan Mazepa's actions in the Battle of Poltava between Sweden and Russia. The poem intertwines a love plot between Mazepa and the beautiful Maria, with an account of Mazepa's betrayal of Peter I and the Tsar's ultimate victory. The poem is celebrated for its depth of characterisation and employs the use of several different genres, inspiring the composer Tchaikovsky to compose the 1884 opera Mazeppa.

Poltava opens with an epigraph from Byron's 1819 ballad Mazeppa, which depicts the Hetman as a Romantic hero, exiled from Poland for his love affair with a married noblewoman. Pushkin follows this epigraph with a passionate dedication to an anonymous lover. The poem is divided into three cantos of equal length. The first canto opens on the estate of the nobleman Vasily Kochubei and describes Kochubei's beautiful daughter Maria, who has fallen in love with the Hetman Mazepa. As he is her godfather and much older than her, they decide to keep their love for each other secret. However, they are soon discovered and are forced to elope...

Ivan Stepanovych Mazepa (1639 1709), the protagonist of the poem CONTENTS.

POLTAVA. CANTO THE FIRST.

POLTAVA. CANTO THE SECOND.

POLTAVA. CANTO THE THIRD.

The Battle of Poltava, 27 June 1709 POLTAVA. CANTO THE FIRST.

Rich and famed is Kotzubei.

Boundless and large his spacious fields,

Whereon his droves of horses graze

At their free will and all unwatched.

Around Poltava's fairest plains

Stretch far his gardens and his parks;

And in his house are treasures rare

Satins, furs and dishes silver,

Exposed to view or safely locked.

But Kotzubei, rich and proud,

Cares little for his long-maned steeds,

The tribute paid by Tartar horde,