DEMONS
by Alexander Pushkin
Spinning storm clouds, rushing storm clouds,
Hazy skies, a hazy night,
And a furtive moon that slyly
Sets the flying snow alight.
On we drive... The waste is boundless,
Nameless plains skim past, and hills.
Gripped by fear, I sit unmoving...
Tink-tink-tinkle go the bells.
"Coachman, come, wake up!.." "The horses
They are weary, sir, and slow;
As for me, I'm nearly blinded
By this blasted wind and snow!
There's no road in sight, so help me;
What to do?.. We've lost our way.
It's the demon that has got us
And is leading us astray.
"Look! He's close; he plays and teases,
Blows and spits, and, all unseen,
With a laugh our horses pushes
To the edge of a ravine.
Now he'll rise, a giant milepost,
Straight before me; now, a spark,
Flash and gleam, and, sinking, vanish
Of a sudden in the dark."
Spinning storm clouds, rushing storm clouds,
Hazy skies, a hazy night,
And a furtive moon that slyly
Sets the flying snow alight.
Spent from circling round, the horses
Jerk and stop... The bells go dead.
"That a stump or wolf?" "Yer Honour,
I don't rightly see ahead."
Loud the snowstorm weeps and rages,
And the horses snort in fright.
O'er the plain the demon prances,
In the murk his eyes glow bright.
Off the horses start a'shudder,
And the bells go ting-a-ling...
Demons, demons without number
Gather round us in a ring.
In the eerie play of moonlight
They grimace, they wail and call,
Whirling, leaping, dancing madly
Like the windswept leaves of fall.
Why are they so wild, so restless?
Why so weird the sounds they make?
Could this be a witch's wedding?
Could this be a goblin's wake?
Spinning storm clouds, rushing storm clouds,
Hazy skies, a hazy night,
And a furtive moon that slyly
Sets the flying snow alight.
Skyward soar the whirling demons,
Shrouded by the falling snow,
And their plaintive, awful howling
Fills my heart with dread and woe.
1830
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