Part I

Sad Demon, spirit of exile,
He flew over the sinful earth,
And better days of remembrance
A crowd crowded before him;
Those days when in the dwelling of light
He shone, a pure cherub,
When a running comet
A smile of affectionate greetings
Loved to trade with him
When through eternal fogs,
Greedy for knowledge, he followed
Nomadic caravans
In the space of abandoned luminaries;
When he believed and loved
Happy firstborn of creation!
I knew neither malice nor doubt,
And did not threaten his mind
Centuries of barren series of dull ...
And many, many ... and everything
He did not have the strength to remember!

Long outcast wandered
In the wilderness of a world without shelter:
After the century, the century fled,
Like a minute a minute
Uniform sequence.
Insignificant dominating the earth,
He sowed evil without pleasure,
Nowhere to your art
He met no resistance
And evil bored him.

And over the peaks of the Caucasus
The exile of paradise flew by:
Under it, Kazbek, like a facet of a diamond,
Shined with eternal snows,
And, deep down blackening,
Like a crack, a serpent's dwelling,
The radiant Daryal curled,
And Terek, jumping like a lioness
With a shaggy mane on the ridge,
Roared, - and a mountain beast and a bird,
Circling in the azure height
Heeded the word of his waters;
And golden clouds
From the southern countries, from afar
He was escorted north;
And the rocks in a tight crowd,
Full of mysterious slumber,
Bowed their heads over him
Following the flickering waves;
And towers of castles on the rocks
Looked menacingly through the mists -
At the gates of the Caucasus on the clock
Guard Giants!
And wild and wonderful was around
All God's world; but a proud spirit
looked contemptuously
Creation of your god
And on his high forehead
Nothing reflected.

And in front of him is a different picture
Living colors bloomed:
Luxurious Georgia Valley
Carpet spread out in the distance;
Happy, lush end of the earth!
pillared rains,
Ringing running streams
Along the bottom of multi-colored stones,
And bushes of roses, where the nightingales
Sing beauties, unrequited
To the sweet voice of their love;
Chinar spreading canopy,
Densely crowned with ivy,
Caves where the scorching day
Timid deer lurk;
And shine, and life, and the noise of sheets,
Hundred-sounding voices,
The breath of a thousand plants!
And half a day voluptuous heat,
And fragrant dew
Always wet nights
And the stars are bright as eyes
Like the look of a young Georgian woman!..
But, apart from cold envy,
Nature did not excite the brilliance
In the exile's barren chest
No new feelings, no new forces;
And all that he saw before him
He despised or hated.

Tall house, wide yard
Gray-haired Gudal built himself ...
Works and tears, he cost a lot
Slaves obedient for a long time.
In the morning on the slope of neighboring mountains
Shadows cast from its walls.
Steps are cut into the rock;
They are from the corner tower
They lead to the river, flickering along them,
Covered with a white veil 1,
Princess Tamara young
He goes to Aragva for water.

Always silent on the valleys
I looked from the cliff a gloomy house;
But there is a big feast in it today -
Zurna 2 sounds, and guilt pours -
Gudal betrothed his daughter,
He called the whole family to the feast.
On the carpeted roof
The bride sits between her friends:
Among games and songs their leisure
Passes. distant mountains
The semicircle of the sun is already hidden;
Striking in the palm of your hand,
They sing - and their tambourine
The young bride takes.
And here she is, with one hand
Circling it over your head
Then suddenly it rushes lighter than a bird,
It will stop, look -
And her wet eyes shine
From under an envious eyelash;
That will lead with a black eyebrow,
Then suddenly it leans a little,
And glides on the carpet, floats
Her divine foot;
And she smiles
Full of children's fun
But a ray of the moon, in unsteady moisture
Slightly playing at times
Hardly compares to that smile
Like life, like youth, alive.

I swear by the midnight star
Beam of sunset and east,
Ruler of Persia golden
And not a single king of the earth
I did not kiss such an eye;
Harem Sprinkling Fountain
Never hot sometimes
With its pearly dew
I did not wash such a camp!
Still no one's earthly hand,
Wandering over the sweet brow,
She did not unravel such hair;
Since the world lost paradise
I swear she's such a beauty
Under the sun of the south did not bloom.

She danced for the last time.
Alas! expected in the morning
Her, heiress of Gudal,
Freedom frisky child
The fate of the sad slave
Fatherland, alien to this day,
And an unknown family.
And often secret doubt
Dark light features;
And all her movements were
So slender, full of expression,
So full of sweet simplicity
What if the Demon, flying,
At that time he looked at her
Then, remembering the former brethren,
He turned away b - and sighed ...

And the Demon saw... For a moment
inexplicable excitement
He suddenly felt in himself
The dumb soul of his desert
Filled with blessed sound -
And again he comprehended the shrine
Love, kindness and beauty!
And long sweet picture
He admired - and dreams
About the former happiness with a long chain,
Like a star behind a star
They rolled before him then.
Bound by an invisible force
He became familiar with the new sadness;
A feeling suddenly spoke in him
once native language.
Was that a sign of rebirth?
He is the words of insidious temptation
I couldn't find it in my mind...
Forget? - God did not give oblivion:
Yes, he would not take oblivion! ..
_______________

Having exhausted a good horse,
To the wedding feast at sunset
The impatient groom hurried.
Aragva light he happily
Reached the green shores.
Under the heavy burden of gifts
Barely, barely crossing
Behind him camels a long line
The road stretches, flickering:
Their bells are ringing.
He himself, the ruler of Synodal,
Leading a rich caravan.
A dexterous camp is tightened with a belt;
Saber and dagger frame
Shines in the sun; behind the back
The gun with notch notch.
The wind plays with its sleeves
His chuhi 3 - she's all around
All trimmed with galloon.
Colored embroidered silk
His saddle; bridle with brushes;
Under it, a dashing horse covered in soap
Priceless suit, golden.
Pet frisky Karabakh
It spins with ears and, full of fear,
Snoring squints with steepness
On the foam of a galloping wave.
Dangerous, narrow is the coastal path!
Cliffs on the left side
To the right is the depth of the rebellious river.
It's too late. At the top of the snow
The blush fades; the fog came up...
The caravan stepped up.

And here is the chapel on the road...
Here for a long time rests in God
Some prince, now a saint,
Killed by a vengeful hand.
Since then, for a holiday or for a battle,
Wherever the traveler hurries,
Always fervent prayer
He brought at the chapel;
And that prayer saved
From a Muslim dagger.
But the daring groom despised
The custom of their great-grandfathers.
His insidious dream
The crafty Demon was indignant:
He is in my thoughts, under the darkness of the night,
Kissed the lips of the bride.
Suddenly, two people flashed ahead,
And more - a shot! - what?..
Standing up on voiced 4 stirrups,
Pulling on the eyebrows dads, 5
The brave prince did not say a word;
A Turkish trunk flashed in his hand,
Whip click - and, like an eagle,
He rushed ... and shot again!
And a wild cry and a deaf moan
Rushed into the depths of the valley -
The battle did not last long:
The timid Georgians fled!

Everything was quiet; huddled in a crowd,
On the corpses of riders sometimes
The camels looked on in horror;
And deaf in the silence of the steppe
Their bells rang.
A magnificent caravan was plundered;
And over the bodies of Christians
Draws circles night bird!
No peaceful tomb awaits them
Under a layer of monastic slabs,
Where the ashes of their fathers were buried;
Sisters with mothers will not come,
Covered with long veils
With longing, sobs and prayers,
To their coffin from distant places!
But with a diligent hand
Here by the road, over the rock
A cross will be erected in memory;
And the ivy that grew in the spring
He, caressing, will wrap around
With its emerald net;
And, having turned off the difficult road,
More than once a tired pedestrian
Rest under God's shadow...

The horse rushes faster than the deer,
Snoring and torn, as if to scold;
Then suddenly besiege at a gallop,
Listens to the wind
Widely flaring nostrils;
That, at once hitting the ground
With thorns of sonorous hooves,
Waving his tousled mane,
It flies forward without memory.
It has a silent rider!
He beats on the saddle sometimes,
Leaning on the mane with his head.
He no longer rules the occasions
I put my feet in the stirrups,
And blood in wide streams
You can see him on the saddle.
Dashing horse, you are the master
Brought out of the battle like an arrow
But an evil Ossetian bullet
Caught him in the dark!

In the Gudala family weeping and groaning,
People are crowding in the yard:
Whose horse rushed on fire
And fell on the stones at the gate?
Who is this breathless rider?
Kept a trail of swearing anxiety
Wrinkles of a swarthy brow.
In the blood of weapons and dress;
In the last frenzied shake
The hand on the mane froze.
Not for long the young groom,
Bride, your gaze was waiting:
He kept the prince's word,
He rode to the wedding feast ...
Alas! but never again
Do not sit on a dashing horse! ..

For a carefree family
God's punishment flew like thunder!
Fell on her bed
Sobs poor Tamara;
Tear after tear
The chest is high and difficult to breathe;
And now she seems to hear
Magical voice above you:
"Don't cry, child! don't cry in vain!
Your tear on a mute corpse
Living dew will not fall:
She only blurs her clear eyes,
Virgin cheeks burn!
He is far away, he does not know
Will not appreciate your anguish;
Heavenly light now caresses
The disembodied gaze of his eyes;
He hears heavenly tunes...
That life is petty dreams
And the groans and tears of the poor maiden
For a guest of the heavenly side?
No, the lot of mortal creation,
Believe me, my earthly angel,
Not worth a moment
Your sorrow dear!
On the ocean of air
No rudder and no sails
Quietly floating in the fog
Choirs of slender luminaries;
Among the boundless fields
Walking in the sky without a trace
Clouds elusive
Fibrous herds.
The hour of parting, the hour of goodbye -
They neither joy nor sorrow;
They have no desire in the future
And don't feel sorry for the past.
On the day of agonizing misfortune
You only remember them;
Be to the earth without participation
And as careless as they are!
Only night with its cover
The tops of the Caucasus will overshadow
Only the world, with a magic word
Bewitched, shut up;
Only the wind over the rock
Will move the withered grass,
And the bird hidden in it
Flutters more cheerfully in the darkness;
And under the vine,
Dew of heaven swallowing greedily,
The flower will bloom at night;
Only a golden month
From behind the mountain will quietly rise
And steal a glance at you,
I will fly to you;
I will stay until morning
And silk eyelashes
Dreams of gold evoke ... "

The words fell silent in the distance
After the sound, the sound died.
She jumps up and looks around...
Unspeakable confusion
In her chest; sadness, fear,
Rapture ardor - nothing in comparison.
All the feelings in her boiled suddenly;
The soul tore its shackles,
Fire ran through my veins
And this voice is wonderfully new,
She thought it still sounded.
And before the morning dream is desired
Tired eyes closed;
But he revolted her thought
A prophetic and strange dream.
The stranger is foggy and mute,
Beauty shining unearthly,
He bowed to her headboard;
And his gaze with such love,
Looked at her so sadly
As if he regretted it.
It wasn't an angel
Her divine guardian:
Crown of Rainbow Beams
Did not decorate his curls.
That was not hell, a terrible spirit,
Vicious martyr - oh no!
It looked like a clear evening:
Neither day nor night, neither darkness nor light!

Part 2

"Father, father, leave threats,
Do not scold your own Tamara;
I cry: you see these tears,
They are not the first.
In vain the suitors crowd
They rush here from distant places.
There are many brides in Georgia;
And I can't be anyone's wife!
Oh, don't scold me, father.
You yourself noticed: day by day
I wither, the victim of an evil poison!
I'm tormented by the evil spirit
Irresistible dream;
I'm dying, have pity on me!
Give to the sacred abode
Your reckless daughter;
A savior will protect me there,
I will shed my anguish before him,
I have no fun in the world...
Shrines of the world of autumn,
Let the gloomy cell accept
Like a coffin, in advance of me ... "

And in a secluded monastery
Her family took
And a humble sackcloth
They clothed the young breast.
But also in monastic clothes,
As under a patterned brocade,
All a lawless dream
Her heart was beating like before.
Before the altar, by the light of candles,
In the hours of solemn singing,
Familiar, among prayers,
She often heard speech.
Under the dome of the gloomy temple
A familiar image sometimes
Gliding without a sound or a trace
In a mist of light incense;
He shone softly like a star;
He beckoned and called ... but - where? ..

In the cool between two hills
The holy monastery hid.
Chinar and poplars in rows
He was surrounded - and sometimes,
When the night lay down in the gorge,
Flashed through them, in the windows of the cell,
The lamp of the young sinner.
All around, in the shade of almond trees,
Where a row stands sad crosses,
Silent guardians of the tombs,
Choirs of light birds sang.
They jumped on the stones, made noise
Keys in a cold wave
And under the overhanging rock
Merging friendly in the gorge,
Rolled on, between the bushes,
Frosted flowers.

Mountains were visible to the north.
At the brilliance of the morning Aurora,
When the blue smoke
Smoking deep in the valley
And turning to the east
Muetzins are calling to prayer,
And the sonorous voice of the bell
Trembling, awakening the abode;
In a solemn and peaceful hour,
When a Georgian is young
With a long jug for water
The steep descends from the mountain,
Snow chain tops
light purple wall
Drawn in the clear sky
And dressed at sunset
They are a ruddy veil;
And between them, cutting through the clouds,
He stood, all above his head,
Kazbek, the mighty king of the Caucasus,
In a turban and a brocade chasuble.

But, full of criminal thoughts,
Tamara's heart is unavailable
Pure delight. in front of her
The whole world is dressed in a gloomy shadow;
And everything in it is an excuse for torment
And the morning beam and the darkness of the nights.
It used to be only sleepy nights
Coolness will cover the earth,
Before the divine icon
She falls into madness
And cries; and in the silence of the night
Her heavy sobbing
The traveler's attention worries;
And he thinks: “That is a mountain spirit
Chained in the cave groans!”
And sensitive straining hearing,
Drives a tired horse.

Full of longing and trembling,
Tamara is often at the window
Sitting alone in thought
And looks into the distance with a diligent eye,
And the whole day, sighing, waiting ...
Someone whispers to her: he will come!
No wonder her dreams caressed,
No wonder he appeared to her,
With eyes full of sadness
And wonderful tenderness of speeches.
For many days she languishes,
She doesn't know why;
Does he want to pray to the saints -
And the heart prays to him;
Tired of the constant struggle
Will he bow down on the bed of sleep:
The pillow burns, she is stuffy, scared,
And all, jumping up, she trembles;
Her chest and shoulders are burning,
No strength to breathe, fog in the eyes,
Embrace eagerly looking for a meeting,
Kisses melt on the lips ...
_______________

Evening haze airy cover
Already dressed the hills of Georgia.
Habit sweet obedient,
The Demon flew into offense.
But for a long, long time he did not dare
Shrine of Peaceful Shelter
Violate. And there was a minute
When he seemed ready
Leave the intent cruel
Thoughtful against the high wall
He wanders: from his steps
Without wind, a leaf trembles in the shade.
He looked up: her window,
Illuminated by a lamp, shines;
She's been waiting for someone!
And in the midst of the general silence
Chingura 1 slender rattling
And the sounds of the song resounded;
And those sounds flowed, flowed,
Like tears, measured one after another;
And this song was tender
As if for the earth she
Was stacked in the sky!
Is it an angel with a forgotten friend
I wanted to see you again
Stealthily flew here
And he sang about the past,
To alleviate his pain?
The anguish of love, its excitement
Comprehended the Demon for the first time;
He wants to leave in fear ...
His wing doesn't move!
And, miracle! from faded eyes
A heavy tear rolls down...
Until now near that cell
Through the burnt stone is visible
Tears hot as a flame
Inhuman tear!..

And he enters, ready to love,
With a heart open to goodness,
And he thinks that a new life
The desired time has come.
A vague thrill of anticipation
Silent fear of the unknown
Like a first date
Confessed with a proud soul.
That was an evil omen!
He enters, looks - in front of him
Messenger of heaven, cherub,
Guardian of the beautiful sinner,
Standing with a shining brow
And from the enemy with a clear smile
He painted her with a wing;
And a ray of divine light
Suddenly blinded by an unclean gaze,
And instead of a sweet hello
There was a heavy reproach:

"The spirit is restless, the spirit is vicious,
Who called you in the midnight darkness?
Your fans are not here
Evil has not breathed here until now;
To my love, to my shrine
Do not lay a criminal trail.
Who called you?
In response to him
The evil spirit chuckled slyly;
His eyes flushed with jealousy;
And again in his soul woke up
Poison of ancient hatred.
"She is mine! he said sternly,
Leave her, she's mine!
You, protector, appeared late,
And she, like me, you're not a judge.
With a heart full of pride
I have set my seal;
Your shrine is no longer here
Here I own and love!”
And the angel with sad eyes
Looked at the poor victim
And slowly flapping your wings
I drowned in the ether of the sky.
………………………………………………………………

Tamara
O! who are you? your speech is dangerous!
Did hell or heaven send you to me?
What do you want?..

Daemon
You're beautiful!

Tamara
But say who are you? answer...

Daemon
I am the one who listened
You are in the midnight silence
Whose thought whispered to your soul,
Whose sadness did you vaguely guess,
Whose image I saw in a dream.
I am the one whose gaze destroys hope;
I am the one no one loves;
I am the scourge of my earthly slaves,
I am the king of knowledge and freedom,
I am the enemy of heaven, I am the evil of nature,
And, you see, I am at your feet!
I brought you tenderness
Silent love prayer
Earthly first torment
And my first tears.
O! listen - out of regret!
Me good and heaven
You could return with a word.
Your love with a holy cover
Dressed, I would appear there
Like a new angel in a new brilliance;
O! just listen, please,
I am your slave - I love you!
As soon as I saw you -
And secretly suddenly hated
Immortality and my power.
I envied involuntarily
Incomplete earthly joy;
Not to live like you, it hurt me
And it's scary - it's different to live with you.
In a bloodless heart, an unexpected ray
Warmed up again,
And sadness at the bottom of an old wound
She moved like a snake.
What is this eternity without you?
My dominion is infinity?
Empty sounding words
A vast temple - without a deity!

Tamara
Leave me, O evil spirit!
Shut up, I don't trust the enemy...
Creator… Alas! I can't
Pray... deadly poison
My weakening mind is embraced!
Listen, you will ruin me;
Your words are fire and poison...
Tell me why you love me!

Daemon
Why, beauty? Alas,
I don't know!.. Full of new life,
From my criminal head
I proudly took off the crown of thorns,
I threw all the past into dust:
My heaven, my hell in your eyes.
I love you with an unearthly passion,
How can you not love
With all rapture, with all power
Immortal thoughts and dreams.
In my soul, from the beginning of the world,
Your image has been printed
He hovered in front of me
In the deserts of eternal ether.
For a long time disturbing my thought,
The name sounded sweet to me;
In the days of bliss me in paradise
You were missing one.
O! if you could understand
What a bitter languor
All my life, centuries without separation
And enjoy and suffer
Do not expect praise for evil,
No reward for good;
Live for yourself, miss yourself
And this eternal struggle
No celebration, no reconciliation!
Always regret and not wish
Know everything, feel everything, see everything,
Try to hate everything
And despise everything in the world! ..
Only God's curse
Fulfilled from the same day
Nature's hot embrace
Forever cooled down for me;
The space was blue before me;
I saw the wedding dress
Lights, familiar to me for a long time ...
They flowed in crowns of gold;
But what? former brother
None recognized.
Exiles like themselves
I began to call in desperation,
But words and faces and evil eyes,
Alas! I didn't recognize myself.
And in fear I, flapping my wings,
Rushed - but where? why?
I don't know... old friends
I was rejected; like eden,
The world has become deaf and dumb for me.
At the free whim of the current
So damaged rook
No sails and no rudder
Floats, not knowing the destination;
So early in the morning
A fragment of a thundercloud,
Blackening in azure silence,
Alone, not daring to stick anywhere,
Flies without a goal and a trace,
God knows where and where!
And I ruled people for a short time,
Taught them sin for a short time,
All noble dishonored
And he blasphemed everything beautiful;
Not for long... the flame of pure faith
Easily forever I poured into them ...
But were my labors worth it?
Only fools and hypocrites?
And I hid in the gorges of the mountains;
And began to wander like a meteor,
In the deep darkness of midnight...
And the lonely traveler rushed,
Deceived by a close flame;
And falling into the abyss with a horse,
Called in vain - and the trail is bloody
Behind him twisted along the steepness ...
But malice is gloomy fun
I didn't like it for long!
In the fight against a mighty hurricane,
How often, raising the ashes,
Dressed in lightning and mist,
I ran noisily in the clouds,
So that in the crowd of rebellious elements
Silence the murmur of the heart,
Save yourself from the inevitable thought
And forget the unforgettable!
What a tale of painful deprivation,
The labors and troubles of the human crowd
To come, past generations,
Before one minute
My unacknowledged torment?
What people? what is their life and work?
They have passed, they will pass...
There is hope - the right court awaits:
He can forgive, even condemn!
My sadness is always here
And there will be no end to her, like me;
And do not take a nap in her grave!
She fawns like a snake
It burns and splashes like a flame,
That crushes my thought like a stone -
Hopes of the dead and passions
Invincible mausoleum!

Tamara
Why should I know your sorrows
Why are you complaining to me?
You have sinned...

Daemon
Is it against you?

Tamara
We can be heard!

Daemon
We are alone.

Tamara
And God!

Daemon
They don't look at us:
He is busy with heaven, not earth!

Tamara
And the punishment, the torments of hell?

Daemon
So what? You will be there with me!

Tamara
Whoever you are, my random friend, -
Lost peace forever
Involuntarily, with the joy of mystery,
Sufferer, I hear you.
But if your speech is sly,
But if you're a deceit...
O! spare me! What glory?
What is my soul to you?
Am I dearer to the sky
Everyone you didn't see?
They, alas! beautiful too;
Like here, their virgin bed
Not crumpled by a mortal hand...
Not! give me a fatal oath ...
Tell me - you see: I yearn;
You see women's dreams!
You involuntarily caress the fear in your soul ...
But you understood everything, you know everything -
And, of course, you will take pity!
Swear to me ... from evil possessions
Renounce now vow.
Really no oaths, no promises
Are there no more invincibles? ..

Daemon
I swear on the first day of creation
I swear on his last day
I swear on the shame of crime
And eternal truth triumph.
I swear to fall by bitter flour,
Victory by a short dream;
I swear on a date with you
And again threatening separation.
I swear by the host of spirits,
The fate of the brothers who are subject to me,
With swords of impassive angels,
My unsleeping enemies;
I swear by heaven and hell
Earthly shrine and you
I swear by your last look
Your first tear
Your gentle lips with breath,
A wave of silk curls
I swear by bliss and suffering,
I swear on my love:
I renounced the old revenge
I have renounced proud thoughts;
From now on, the poison of insidious flattery
Nothing disturbs the mind;
I want to reconcile with the sky
I want to love, I want to pray
I want to believe good.
Wipe away with a tear of repentance
I am on a forehead worthy of you,
Traces of heavenly fire -
And the world in ignorance is calm
Let it bloom without me!
O! believe me: I'm alone until now
You comprehended and appreciated:
Choosing you as my shrine
I have placed power at your feet.
I'm waiting for your love as a gift
And I will give you eternity in a moment;
In love, as in malice, believe, Tamara,
I am immutable and great.
I am you, free son of ether,
I'll take it to the superstellar regions;
And you will be the queen of the world
My first friend
Without regret, without participation
You will look at the ground
Where there is no true happiness
No lasting beauty
Where there are only crimes and executions,
Where petty passions only live;
Where they do not know how without fear
Neither hate nor love.
Do you not know what is
People momentary love?
The excitement of the blood is young, -
But the days run and the blood runs cold!
Who can resist separation
The temptation of a new beauty
Against fatigue and boredom
And the willfulness of dreams?
Not! not you, my friend,
Find out, appointed by fate
Fading silently in a tight circle,
Jealous rudeness slave,
Among the cowardly and cold,
False friends and enemies
Fear and fruitless hopes,
Empty and painful labors!
Sad behind the high wall
You will not die without passions,
Among the prayers, equally far
From god and people.
Oh no, beautiful creature
You are assigned to something else;
Other suffering awaits you
Other delights depth;
Leave your old desires
And the miserable light of his fate:
The abyss of proud knowledge
In return, I will open it for you.
A crowd of my office spirits
I will bring you to your feet;
Handmaidens of light and magical
To you, beauty, I will give;
And for you from the eastern star
I will pluck a golden crown;
I'll take the midnight dew from the flowers;
I will put him to sleep with that dew;
A beam of ruddy sunset
Your camp, like a ribbon, I will wrap,
With a breath of pure fragrance
I will drink the surrounding air;
All the time wonderful game
I will cherish your hearing;
I will build magnificent halls
From turquoise and amber;
I will sink to the bottom of the sea
I will fly beyond the clouds
I will give you everything, everything earthly -
Love me!..

And he's a little
Touched with hot lips
Her trembling lips;
Temptation full speeches
He answered her prayers.
A mighty gaze gazed into her eyes!
He burned her. In the darkness of the night
Above her, he sparkled,
Irresistible as a dagger.
Alas! the evil spirit triumphed!
The deadly poison of his kiss
Instantly penetrated into her chest.
Anguished terrible scream
Night revolted the silence.
It was everything: love, suffering,
Rebuke with a last plea
And a hopeless goodbye
Farewell to young life

At that time the midnight watchman
One around the wall is steep
Quietly making the appointed path,
Wandered with a cast-iron board,
And near the cell of the young virgin
He tamed his measured step
And a hand over a cast iron board,
Confused, he stopped.
And through the surrounding silence,
He thought he heard
Two mouths consonant kiss,
A momentary cry and a faint moan.
And unholy doubt
Penetrated into the heart of the old man ...
But another moment passed
And everything was quiet; from afar
Just a breath of wind
The murmuring of the leaves brought
Yes, with a dark coast sadly
The mountain river whispered.
Saint's saint's canon
He hurries to read in fear,
So that the obsession of an evil spirit
Drive away from sinful thought;
Crosses with trembling fingers
Dream agitated chest
And silently with quick steps
The regular one continues on.
_______________

Like a peri sleeping sweetheart
She lay in her coffin
Whiter and cleaner bedspreads
There was a languid color of her brow.
Forever lowered eyelashes ...
But who would, oh heaven! didn't say
That the gaze below them only dozed
And, wonderful, just expected
Or a kiss, or dennitsa?
But it's useless daylight beam
Sliding over them with a golden stream,
In vain they are in mute sadness
Mouths of relatives kissed ...
Not! death eternal seal
Nothing can break it!

Never been in the days of fun
So colorful and rich
Tamara's festive outfit.
Flowers of the native gorge
(So ​​the ancient requires the rite)
They pour their fragrance over her
And, clenched by a dead hand,
How to say goodbye to the earth!
And nothing in her face
Didn't hint at the end
In the heat of passion and ecstasy;
And were all her features
Filled with that beauty
Like marble, alien to expression,
Deprived of feeling and mind,
Mysterious as death itself.
A strange smile froze
Flickering across her lips.
Talked about a lot of sad things
She attentive eyes:
There was cold contempt in her
Soul ready to bloom
The last thought expression,
Forgive the soundless earth.
A vain reflection of the life of the past,
She was even deader
Still more hopeless for the heart
Forever faded eyes.
So at the hour of the solemn sunset,
When, melted in a sea of ​​gold,
The chariot of the day has already disappeared,
Snow of the Caucasus, for a moment
The tide is ruddy,
They shine in the dark distance.
But this beam is half alive
In the desert you will not meet a reflection,
And it won't light anyone's path
From its top, icy!

A crowd of neighbors and relatives
Already gathered in a sad way.
Tormenting gray curls,
Silently hitting the chest
Goodal sits down for the last time
On a white-maned horse.
And the train started moving. Three days,
Three nights their journey will last:
Between the old grandfather's bones
The shelter of the deceased was dug for her.
One of the forefathers of Gudal,
Robber of wanderers and villages,
When sickness took hold of him
And the hour of repentance has come
Sins past in redemption
He promised to build a church
On top of the granite rocks
Where only blizzards hear singing,
Where only the kite flew.
And soon between the snows of Kazbek
A lonely temple has risen
And the bones of an evil man
Rest there again;
And turned into a graveyard
Rock native to the clouds:
Like closer to heaven
Warmer posthumous dwelling? ..
As if further from people
The last dream will not be indignant ...
In vain! the dead won't dream
No sadness, no joy of the past days.

In the space of blue ether
One of the angels of the saints
Flying on golden wings
And a sinful soul from the world
He carried in his arms.
And sweet speech of hope
Dispelled her doubts
And a trace of misconduct and suffering
He washed away her tears.
From afar the sounds of paradise
They reached them - when suddenly,
Free path crossing,
An infernal spirit rose up from the abyss.
He was powerful, like a noisy whirlwind,
Shined like lightning,
And proudly in insane insolence
He says: "She's mine!"
She clung to her protective chest,
Prayer drowned out the horror,
Tamara is a sinful soul.
The fate of the future was decided
Again he stood before her,
But, God! - who would recognize him?
With what an evil look he looked,
How full of deadly poison
Enmity that knows no end -
And breathed grave cold
From a motionless face.
Disappear, dark spirit of doubt! -
The heavenly messenger replied:
You have triumphed enough;
But the hour of judgment has now come -
And God's decision!
The days of testing are over;
With the clothes of the mortal earth
The shackles of evil fell from her.
Find out! we have been waiting for it for a long time!
Her soul was one of those
Whose life is one moment
unbearable pain,
Unattainable pleasures:
Creator from the best ether
Weaved their living strings,
They are not made for the world
And the world was not created for them!
Redeemed at the price of cruel
She has her doubts...
She suffered and loved -
And heaven opened for love!”
And the angel with stern eyes
Looked at the tempter
And with joyful flapping of wings,
I drowned in the radiance of the sky.
And cursed Demon defeated
Your crazy dreams
And again he remained, arrogant,
Alone, as before, in the universe
Without hope and love!
On the slope of a stone mountain
Above the Koishaur valley
Still standing to this day
The teeth are the ruins of an old one.
Stories scary for children
There are still stories about them...
Like a ghost, a silent monument,
Witness those magical days
Blackens between the trees.
The aul crumbled below,
The earth blossoms and turns green;
And voices discordant rumble
Gets lost and caravans
They go, ringing, from afar,
And, plunging through the mists,
The river sparkles and foams.
And life forever young
Coolness, sun and spring
Nature is joking,
Like a carefree child.
But sad is the castle that has served
Once in your turn,
Like a poor old man who survived
Friends and lovely family.
And just waiting for the moon to rise
Its invisible inhabitants:
Then they have a holiday and freedom!
Buzzing, running in all directions.
Gray-haired spider, new hermit,
Spins the webs of its warp;
Green lizard family
Plays merrily on the roof;
And a wary snake
Creeps out of a dark hole
On the slab of the old porch,
Then suddenly it will fit into three rings,
That will lie in a long strip,
And shines like a damask sword,
Forgotten in the field of old sich,
Unnecessary to the fallen hero!..
Everything is wild; there are no traces anywhere
Years gone by: the hand of the ages
Diligently, swept them away for a long time,
And don't remember anything
About the glorious name of Gudala,
Oh, his dear daughter!
But the church is on a steep peak,
Where are the bones taken by their earth,
We keep the power of the saint,
It is still visible between the clouds.
And at her gate stand
On guard are black granites,
Covered with cloaks of snow;
And on their chest instead of armor
The eternal ice is burning.
Falls sleepy bulks
From the ledges, like waterfalls,
Frost seized suddenly
They hang around frowning.
And there the blizzard walks on patrol,
Blowing dust off gray walls
That song starts a long one,
That calls out to sentries;
Hearing news in the distance
About a wonderful temple, in that country,
There are only clouds from the east
The crowd rush to worship;
But over a family of tombstones
Nobody is sad for a long time.
Rock of the gloomy Kazbek
Prey greedily guards,
And the eternal murmur of man
Their eternal peace will not disturb.

Analysis of the poem "Demon" by Lermontov

Lermontov was one of the first to develop the "demonic" theme in Russian literature. The theme of "demonism" occupied Lermontov from an early age. In many works of the poet, "demonic images" appeared. He wrote the poem "Demon" for about 12 years. The beginning of the work dates back to 1829. The edition of 1838 is closest to the final text. Lermontov lived in the Caucasus and transferred the scene of action there. The main character appeared - Princess Tamara, based on the Georgian folk legend about an evil spirit. The poet continued to make corrections and finished the poem only in 1841.

The image of a demon in Lermontov is inspired by his romantic ideas about a proud and rebellious lyrical hero. The poet tried to imagine the inner doubts and experiences of the evil spirit, to understand why he embarked on the path of evil. The demon is of biblical origin, he is a fallen angel who was cast down by God into hell for pride and the desire for absolute power.

The poet's demon is more "human". He does not enjoy his power for long. The suggestion of sinful thoughts soon begins to bother him, especially since people do not try to fight him, but willingly listen to his instructions. Even in hell, the demon experiences acute loneliness. He becomes an outcast among the rest of Satan's servants. Retiring to the gloomy and impregnable rocks, the demon finds temporary entertainment in killing lone travelers.

In such a sad pastime, the demon notices the beautiful Tamara. It seemed to him that nothing could awaken any strong feelings in him. But the appearance of a young girl struck even a gloomy demon. He is seized by an irresistible desire to take possession of the soul of a beauty. He inspires her fiancé with sinful thoughts, which leads to his death. Having got rid of the opponent, the demon begins to visit Tamara in dreams in the guise of an unknown seducer. The princess is frightened by sinful thoughts, and she goes to the monastery. But even here the demon haunts her. During the last decisive appearance, he expels the angel guarding the girl and seeks her consent. Tamara does not renounce God, but she believes in love and that the demon can be cleansed of evil with her. She submits to love and dies.

The demon triumphs. He forgets about the oath and appears in his true form. But Tamara's soul is already in the hands of an angel. By the power of her love, she earned divine forgiveness. The demon is forced to retreat and admit defeat.

Lermontov's attitude towards the demon changes from sympathetic at the beginning to condemning at the end. The author himself destroys his idea of ​​the possibility of the transformation of a demon under the influence of a strong feeling. The essence of the devil is unchanging, so he is powerless before the greatness of divine love.

I

Lermontov. Daemon. audiobook

Sad Demon, spirit of exile,
He flew over the sinful earth,
And better days of remembrance
A crowd crowded before him;
Those days when in the dwelling of light
He shone, a pure cherub,
When a running comet
A smile of affectionate greetings
Loved to trade with him
When through eternal fogs,
Greedy for knowledge, he followed
Nomadic caravans
In the space of abandoned luminaries;
When he believed and loved
Happy firstborn of creation!
He knew neither malice nor doubt.
And did not threaten his mind
A barren series of centuries...
And many, many... and everything
He did not have the strength to remember!

II

Daemon. Artist M. Vrubel, 1890

Long outcast wandered
In the wilderness of a world without shelter:
After the century, the century fled,
Like a minute a minute
Uniform sequence.
Insignificant dominating the earth,
He sowed evil without pleasure.
Nowhere to your art
He met no resistance
And evil bored him.

III

And over the peaks of the Caucasus
The exile of paradise flew by:
Under it, Kazbek, like a facet of a diamond,
Shined with eternal snows,
And, deep down blackening,
Like a crack, a serpent's dwelling,
The radiant Daryal curled,
And Terek, jumping like a lioness
With a shaggy mane on the ridge,
Roared, - and a mountain beast and a bird,
Circling in the azure height
Heeded the word of his waters;
And golden clouds
From the southern countries, from afar
He was escorted north;
And the rocks in a tight crowd,
Full of mysterious slumber,
Bowed their heads over him
Following the flickering waves;
And towers of castles on the rocks
Looked menacingly through the mists -
At the gates of the Caucasus on the clock
Guard Giants!
And wild and wonderful was around
All God's world; but a proud spirit
looked contemptuously
Creation of your god
And on his high forehead
Nothing was reflected.

IV

And in front of him is a different picture
Living colors bloomed:
Luxurious Georgia Valley
Carpet spread out in the distance;
Happy, lush end of the earth!
Pillar-shaped rains.
Ringing running streams
Along the bottom of multi-colored stones,
And bushes of roses, where the nightingales
Sing beauties, unrequited
To the sweet voice of their love;
Chinar spreading canopy,
Thick crowned with ivy.
Caves where the scorching day
Timid deer lurk;
And shine, and life, and the noise of sheets,
Hundred-sounding voices,
The breath of a thousand plants!
And half a day voluptuous heat,
And fragrant dew
Always wet nights
And stars as bright as eyes
Like the look of a young Georgian woman!..
But, apart from cold envy,
Nature did not excite the brilliance
In the exile's barren chest
No new feelings, no new forces;
And all that he saw before him
He despised or hated.

V

Tall house, wide yard
Gray-haired Gudal built himself ...
Works and tears, he cost a lot
Slaves obedient for a long time.
In the morning on the slope of neighboring mountains
Shadows cast from its walls.
Steps are cut into the rock;
They are from the corner tower
They lead to the river, flickering along them,
Covered with white veil,
Princess Tamara young
He goes to Aragva for water.

VI

Always silent on the valleys
I looked from the cliff a gloomy house;
But there is a big feast in it today -
Zurna sounds, and guilt pours -
Gudal betrothed his daughter,
He called the whole family to the feast.
On the carpeted roof
The bride sits between her friends:
Among games and songs their leisure
Passes. distant mountains
The semicircle of the sun is already hidden;
Striking in the palm of your hand,
They sing - and their tambourine
The young bride takes.
And here she is, with one hand
Circling it over your head
Then suddenly it rushes lighter than a bird,
It will stop, look -
And her wet eyes shine
From under an envious eyelash;
That will lead with a black eyebrow,
Then suddenly it leans a little,
And glides on the carpet, floats
Her divine foot;
And she smiles
Full of children's fun.
But a ray of the moon, in unsteady moisture
Slightly playing at times
Hardly compares to that smile
Like life, like youth, alive

VII

I swear by the midnight star
Beam of sunset and east,
Ruler of Persia golden
And not a single king of the earth
I did not kiss such an eye;
Harem Sprinkling Fountain
Never hot sometimes
With its pearly dew
I did not wash such a camp!
Still no one's earthly hand,
Wandering over the sweet brow,
She did not unravel such hair;
Ever since the world lost paradise
I swear she's such a beauty
Under the sun of the south did not bloom.

VIII

She danced for the last time.
Alas! expected in the morning
Her, the heiress of Gudal.
Freedom frisky child
The fate of the sad slave
Fatherland, alien to this day,
And an unknown family.
And often secret doubt
Dark light features;
And all her movements were
So slender, full of expression,
So full of sweet simplicity
What if the Demon, flying,
At that time he looked at her
Then, remembering the former brothers,
He turned away b - and sighed ...

IX

And the Demon saw... For a moment
inexplicable excitement
He suddenly felt in himself.
The dumb soul of his desert
Filled with blessed sound -
And again he comprehended the shrine
Love, kindness and beauty! ..
And long sweet picture
He admired - and dreams
About the former happiness with a long chain,
Like a star behind a star
They rolled before him then.
Bound by an invisible force
He became familiar with the new sadness;
A feeling suddenly spoke in him
once native language.
Was that a sign of rebirth?
He is the words of insidious temptation
I couldn't find it in my mind...
Forget? I did not give oblivion God:
Yes, he would not take oblivion! ..
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

X

Having exhausted a good horse,
To the wedding feast at sunset
The impatient groom hurried.
Aragva light he happily
Reached the green shores.
Under the heavy burden of gifts
Barely, barely crossing
Behind him camels a long line
The road stretches, flickering:
Their bells are ringing.
He himself, the ruler of the Synodal.
Leading a rich caravan.
A dexterous camp is tightened with a belt;
Saber and dagger frame
Shines in the sun; behind the back
The gun with notch notch.
The wind plays with its sleeves
His chuhi - all around she
All trimmed with galloon.
Colored embroidered silk
His saddle; bridle with brushes;
Under it, a dashing horse covered in soap
Priceless suit, golden.
Pet frisky Karabakh
It spins with ears and, full of fear,
Snoring squints with steepness
On the foam of a galloping wave.
Dangerous, narrow is the coastal path!
Cliffs on the left side
To the right is the depth of the rebellious river.
It's too late. At the top of the snow
The blush fades; fog came up...
The caravan stepped up.

XI

And here is the chapel on the road...
Here for a long time rests in God
Some prince, now a saint,
Killed by a vengeful hand.
Since then, for a holiday or for a battle,
Wherever the traveler hurries,
Always fervent prayer
He brought at the chapel;
And that prayer saved
From a Muslim dagger.
But the daring groom despised
The custom of their great-grandfathers.
His insidious dream
The crafty Demon was indignant:
He is in my thoughts, under the darkness of the night,
Kissed the lips of the bride.
Suddenly, two people flashed ahead,
And more - a shot! - what?..
Standing up on ringing stirrups,
Pulling dads on his eyebrows,
The brave prince did not say a word;
A Turkish trunk flashed in his hand,
Whip I click and, like an eagle,
He rushed... and shot again!
And a wild cry and a deaf moan
Rushed into the depths of the valley -
The battle did not last long:
The timid Georgians fled!

XII

Everything was quiet; huddled in a crowd,
On the corpses of riders sometimes
The camels looked on in horror;
And deaf in the silence of the steppe
Their bells rang.
A magnificent caravan was plundered;
And over the bodies of Christians
Draws circles night bird!
No peaceful tomb awaits them
Under a layer of monastic slabs,
Where the ashes of their fathers were buried;
Sisters with mothers will not come,
Covered with long veils
With longing, sobs and prayers,
To their coffin from distant places!
But with a diligent hand
Here by the road, over the rock
A cross will be erected in memory;
And the ivy that grew in the spring
He, caressing, will wrap around
With its emerald net;
And, having turned off the difficult road,
More than once a tired pedestrian
Rest under God's shadow...

XIII

The horse runs faster than the deer.
Snoring and torn, as if to scold;
Then suddenly besiege at a gallop,
Listens to the wind
Widely flaring nostrils;
That, at once hitting the ground
With thorns of sonorous hooves,
Waving his tousled mane,
It flies forward without memory.
It has a silent rider!
He beats on the saddle sometimes,
Leaning on the mane with his head.
He no longer rules the occasions
Putting your feet in the stirrups,
And blood in wide streams
You can see him on the saddle.
Dashing horse, you are the master
Brought out of the battle like an arrow
But an evil Ossetian bullet
Caught him in the dark!

XIV

In the Gudala family weeping and groaning,
People are crowding in the yard:
Whose horse rushed on fire
And fell on the stones at the gate?
Who is this breathless rider?
Kept a trail of swearing anxiety
Wrinkles of a swarthy brow.
In the blood of weapons and dress;
In the last frenzied shake
The hand on the mane froze.
Not for long the young groom,
Bride, your gaze was waiting:
He kept the prince's word,
He rode to the wedding feast...
Alas! but never again
Do not sit on a dashing horse! ..

XV

For a carefree family
God's punishment flew like thunder!
Fell on her bed
Sobs poor Tamara;
Tear after tear
The chest is high and difficult to breathe;
And now she seems to hear
Magical voice above you:
"Don't cry, child! don't cry in vain!
Your tear on a mute corpse
Living dew will not fall:
She only blurs her clear eyes.
Virgin cheeks burn!
He is far away, he does not know
Will not appreciate your anguish;
Heavenly light now caresses
The disembodied gaze of his eyes;
He hears heavenly tunes...
That life is petty dreams
And the groans and tears of the poor maiden
For a guest of the heavenly side?
No, the lot of mortal creation
Believe me, my earthly angel,
Not worth a moment
Your sorrow dear!

On the ocean of air
No rudder and no sails
Quietly floating in the fog
Choirs of slender luminaries;
Among the boundless fields
Walking in the sky without a trace
Clouds elusive
Fibrous herds.
The hour of parting, the hour of goodbye
They neither joy nor sorrow;
They have no desire in the future
And don't feel sorry for the past.
On the day of agonizing misfortune
You only remember them;
Be to the earth without participation
And as careless as they are!"

"Only the night with its cover
The tops of the Caucasus will overshadow
Only the world, with a magic word
Bewitched, shut up;
Only the wind over the rock
Will move the withered grass,
And the bird hidden in it
Flutters more cheerfully in the darkness;
And under the vine,
Dew of heaven swallowing greedily,
The flower will bloom at night;
Only a golden month
From behind the mountain will quietly rise
And steal a glance at you,
I will fly to you;
I will stay until morning
And silk eyelashes
Dreams of gold evoke ... "

XVI

The words fell silent in the distance
After the sound, the sound died.
She jumps up and looks around...
Unspeakable confusion
In her chest; sadness, fear,
Rapture ardor - nothing in comparison.
All the feelings in her boiled suddenly;
The soul tore its shackles,
Fire ran through my veins
And this voice is wonderfully new,
She thought it still sounded.
And before the morning dream is desired
Tired eyes closed;
But he revolted her thought
A prophetic and strange dream.
The stranger is foggy and mute,
Beauty shining unearthly,
He bowed to her headboard;
And his gaze with such love,
Looked at her so sadly
As if he regretted it.
It was not a heavenly angel.
Her divine guardian:
Crown of Rainbow Beams
Did not decorate his curls.
That was not hell, a terrible spirit,
Vicious martyr - oh no!
It looked like a clear evening:
Neither day nor night, neither darkness nor light!

Part II

I

"Father, father, leave threats,
Do not scold your own Tamara;
I cry: you see these tears,
They are not the first.
In vain the suitors crowd
Hurry here from distant places...
There are many brides in Georgia;
And I can't be anyone's wife!
Oh, don't scold me, father.
You yourself noticed: day by day
I wither, the victim of an evil poison!
I'm tormented by the evil spirit
Irresistible dream;
I'm dying, have pity on me!
Give to the sacred abode
Your reckless daughter;
A savior will protect me there,
I will shed my anguish before him.
I have no fun in the world...
Shrines of the world of autumn,
Let the gloomy cell accept
Like a coffin, in advance of me ... "

II

And in a secluded monastery
Her family took
And a humble sackcloth
They clothed the young breast.
But also in monastic clothes,
As under a patterned brocade,
All a lawless dream
Her heart was beating like before.
Before the altar, by the light of candles,
In the hours of solemn singing,
Familiar, among prayers,
She often heard speech.
Under the dome of the gloomy temple
A familiar image sometimes
Gliding without a sound or a trace
In a mist of light incense;
He shone softly like a star;
He beckoned and called ... but - where? ..

III

In the cool between two hills
The holy monastery hid.
Chinar and poplars in rows
He was surrounded - and sometimes,
When the night lay down in the gorge,
Flashed through them, in the windows of the cell,
The lamp of the young sinner.
All around, in the shade of almond trees,
Where a row stands sad crosses,
Silent guardians of the tombs;
Choirs of light birds sang.
They jumped on the stones, made noise
Keys in a cold wave
And under the overhanging rock
Merging friendly in the gorge,
Rolled on, between the bushes,
Frosted flowers.

IV

Mountains were visible to the north.
At the brilliance of the morning Aurora,
When the blue smoke
Smoking deep in the valley
And turning to the east
Muetzins are calling to prayer,
And the sonorous voice of the bell
Trembling, awakening the abode;
In a solemn and peaceful hour,
When a Georgian is young
With a long jug for water
The steep descends from the mountain,
Snow chain tops
light purple wall
Drawn in the clear sky
And dressed at sunset
They are a ruddy veil;
And between them, cutting through the clouds,
He stood, all above his head,
Kazbek, the mighty king of the Caucasus,
In turban and chasuble brocade.

V

But, full of criminal thoughts,
Tamara's heart is unavailable
Pure delight. in front of her
The whole world is dressed in a gloomy shadow;
And everything in it is an excuse for torment -
And the morning beam and the darkness of the nights.
It used to be only sleepy nights
Coolness will cover the earth,
Before the divine icon
She falls into madness
And cries; and in the silence of the night
Her heavy sobbing
The traveler's attention worries;
And he thinks: "That is a mountain spirit
Chained in the cave groans!"
And sensitive straining hearing,
Drives a tired horse.

VI

Full of longing and trembling,
Tamara is often at the window
Sitting alone in thought
And looks into the distance with a diligent eye,
And the whole day, sighing, waiting ...
Someone whispers to her: he will come!
No wonder dreams caressed her.
No wonder he appeared to her.
With eyes full of sadness
And wonderful tenderness of speeches.
For many days she languishes,
She doesn't know why;
Does he want to pray to the saints -
And the heart prays to him;
Tired of the constant struggle
Will he bow down on the bed of sleep:
The pillow burns, she is stuffy, scared,
And all, jumping up, she trembles;
Her chest and shoulders are burning,
No strength to breathe, fog in the eyes,
Embrace eagerly looking for a meeting,
Kisses melt on the lips ...
. . . . . . . . .

VII

Evening haze airy cover
Already dressed the hills of Georgia.
Habit sweet obedient.
The Demon flew to the monastery.
But for a long, long time he did not dare
Shrine of Peaceful Shelter
Violate. And there was a minute
When he seemed ready
Leave intent cruel.
Thoughtful against the high wall
He wanders: from his steps
Without wind, a leaf trembles in the shade.
He looked up: her window,
Illuminated by a lamp, shines;
She's been waiting for someone!
And in the midst of the general silence
Chingura slender rattling
And the sounds of the song resounded;
And those sounds flowed, flowed,
Like tears, measured one after another;
And this song was tender
As if for the earth she
Was stacked in the sky!
Is it an angel with a forgotten friend
I wanted to see you again
Stealthily flew here
And he sang about the past,
To alleviate his pain?
The anguish of love, its excitement
Comprehended the Demon for the first time;
He wants to leave in fear...
His wing doesn't move!
And, miracle! from faded eyes
A heavy tear rolls...
Until now near that cell
Through the burnt stone is visible
Tears hot as a flame
Inhuman tear!..

VIII

And he enters, ready to love,
With a heart open to goodness,
And he thinks that a new life
The desired time has come.
A vague thrill of anticipation
Silent fear of the unknown
Like a first date
Confessed with a proud soul.
That was an evil omen!
He enters, looks - in front of him
Messenger of heaven, cherub,
Guardian of the beautiful sinner,
Standing with a shining brow
And from the enemy with a clear smile
He painted her with a wing;
And a ray of divine light
Suddenly blinded by an unclean gaze,
And instead of a sweet hello
There was a heavy reproach:

IX

"The spirit is restless, the spirit is vicious.
Who called you in the midnight darkness?
Your fans are not here
Evil has not breathed here until now;
To my love, to my shrine
Do not lay a criminal trail.
Who called you?"
In response to him
The evil spirit chuckled slyly;
His eyes flushed with jealousy;
And again in his soul woke up
Poison of ancient hatred.
"She's mine!" he said menacingly, -
Leave her, she's mine!
You, protector, appeared late,
And she, like me, you're not a judge.
With a heart full of pride
I have set my seal;
Your shrine is no longer here
Here I own and love!"
And the angel with sad eyes
Looked at the poor victim
And slowly flapping your wings
I drowned in the ether of the sky.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

X

Tamara and Demon. Artist M. Vrubel, 1890

Tamara
O! who are you? your speech is dangerous!
Did hell or heaven send you to me?
What do you want?..

Daemon
You're beautiful!

Tamara
But say who are you? answer...

Daemon
I am the one who listened
You are in the midnight silence
Whose thought whispered to your soul,
Whose sadness did you vaguely guess,
Whose image I saw in a dream.
I am the one whose gaze destroys hope;
I am the one no one loves;
I am the scourge of my earthly slaves,
I am the king of knowledge and freedom,
I am the enemy of heaven, I am the evil of nature,
And, you see, I am at your feet!
I brought you tenderness
Silent love prayer
Earthly first torment
And my first tears.
O! listen - out of regret!
Me good and heaven
You could return with a word.
Your love with a holy cover
Dressed, I would appear there.
Like a new angel in a new brilliance;
O! just listen, please, I
I am your slave - I love you!
As soon as I saw you -
And secretly suddenly hated
Immortality and my power.
I envied involuntarily
Incomplete earthly joy;
Not to live like you, it hurt me
And it's scary - it's different to live with you.
In a bloodless heart, an unexpected ray
Warmed up again,
And sadness at the bottom of an old wound
She moved like a snake.
What is this eternity without you?
My dominion is infinity?
Empty sounding words
A vast temple - without a deity!

Tamara
Leave me, O evil spirit!
Shut up, I don't trust the enemy...
Creator... Alas! I can't
Pray... deadly poison
My weakening mind is embraced!
Listen, you will ruin me;
Your words are fire and poison...
Tell me why you love me!

Daemon
Why, beauty? Alas,
I don't know!.. Full of new life,
From my criminal head
I proudly took off the crown of thorns,
I threw all the past into dust:
My heaven, my hell in your eyes.
I love you with an unearthly passion,
How can you not love
With all rapture, with all power
Immortal thoughts and dreams.
In my soul, from the beginning of the world,
Your image has been printed
He hovered in front of me
In the deserts of eternal ether.
For a long time disturbing my thought,
The name sounded sweet to me;
In the days of bliss me in paradise
You were missing one.
O! if you could understand
What a bitter languor
All my life, centuries without separation
And enjoy and suffer
Do not expect praise for evil,
No reward for good;
Live for yourself, miss yourself
And this eternal struggle
No celebration, no reconciliation!
Always regret and not wish
Know everything, feel everything, see everything,
Try to hate everything
And despise everything in the world! ..
Only God's curse
Fulfilled from the same day
Nature's hot embrace
Forever cooled down for me;
The space was blue before me;
I saw the wedding dress
Luminary, familiar to me for a long time ...
They flowed in crowns of gold;
But what? former brother
None recognized.
Exiles like themselves
I called out in desperation.
But words and faces and evil eyes,
Alas! I didn't recognize myself.
And in fear I, flapping my wings,
Rushed - but where? why?
I don't know... old friends
I was rejected; like eden,
The world has become deaf and dumb for me.
At the free whim of the current
So damaged rook
No sails and no rudder
Floats, not knowing the destination;
So early in the morning
A fragment of a thundercloud,
In the azure height blackening,
Alone, not daring to stick anywhere,
Flies without a goal and a trace,
God knows where and where!
And I ruled people for a short time.
Taught them sin for a short time,
All noble dishonored,
And he blasphemed everything beautiful;
Not long... the flame of pure faith
Easily forever I poured into them ...
But were my labors worth it?
Only fools and hypocrites?
And I hid in the gorges of the mountains;
And began to wander like a meteor,
In the deep darkness of midnight...
And the lonely traveler rushed,
Deceived by a close flame,
And falling into the abyss with a horse,
I called in vain and the trail is bloody
Behind him twisted along the steepness ...
But malice is gloomy fun
I didn't like it for long!
In the fight against a mighty hurricane,
How often, raising the ashes,
Dressed in lightning and mist,
I ran noisily in the clouds,
So that in the crowd of rebellious elements
Silence the murmur of the heart,
Save yourself from the inevitable thought
And forget the unforgettable!
What a tale of painful deprivation,
The labors and troubles of the human crowd
To come, past generations,
Before one minute
My unacknowledged torment?
What people? what is their life and work?
They have passed, they will pass...
There is hope, I am waiting for the right court:
He can forgive, even condemn!
My sadness is here forever.
And there will be no end to her, like me;
And do not take a nap in her grave!
She fawns like a snake
It burns and splashes like a flame,
That crushes my thought, like a stone I
Hopes of the dead and passions
Invincible mausoleum!

Tamara
Why should I know your sorrow
Why are you complaining to me?
You have sinned...

Daemon
Is it against you?

Tamara
We can be heard!

Daemon
We are alone.

Tamara
And God!

Daemon
They don't look at us:
He is busy with heaven, not earth!

Tamara
And the punishment, the torments of hell?

Daemon
So what? You will be there with me!

Tamara
Whoever you are, my random friend, -
Lost peace forever
Involuntarily, with the joy of mystery,
Sufferer, I hear you.
But if your speech is sly,
But if you're a deceit...
O! spare me! What glory?
What is my soul to you?
Am I dearer to the sky
Everyone you didn't see?
They, alas! beautiful too;
Like here, their virgin bed
Not crumpled by a mortal hand...
Not! give me a fatal oath ...
Tell me - you see: I yearn;
You see women's dreams!
You involuntarily caress the fear in your soul ...
But you understood everything, you know everything -
And, of course, you will take pity!
Swear to me... from evil possessions
Renounce now vow.
Really no oaths, no promises
Are there no more invincibles? ..

Daemon
I swear on the first day of creation
I swear on his last day
I swear on the shame of crime
And eternal truth triumph.
I swear to fall by bitter flour,
Victory by a short dream;
I swear on a date with you
And again threatening separation.
I swear by the host of spirits,
The fate of the brothers subject to me,
With swords of impassive angels.
My unsleeping enemies;
I swear by heaven and hell
Earthly shrine and you
I swear by your last look
Your first tear
Your gentle lips with breath,
A wave of silk curls
I swear by bliss and suffering.
I swear on my love:
I renounced the old revenge
I have renounced proud thoughts;
From now on, the poison of insidious flattery
Nothing disturbs the mind;
I want to reconcile with the sky
I want to love, I want to pray.
I want to believe good.
Wipe away with a tear of repentance
I am on a forehead worthy of you,
Traces of heavenly fire -
And the world in ignorance is calm
Let it bloom without me!
O! believe me: I'm alone until now
You comprehended and appreciated:
Choosing you as my shrine
I have placed power at your feet.
I'm waiting for your love as a gift,
And I will give you eternity in a moment;
In love, as in malice, believe, Tamara,
I am immutable and great.
I am you, free son of ether,
I'll take it to the superstellar regions;
And you will be the queen of the world
My first friend
Without regret, without participation
You will look at the ground
Where there is no true happiness
No lasting beauty
Where there are only crimes and executions,
Where petty passions only live;
Where they do not know how without fear
Neither hate nor love.
Do you not know what is
People momentary love?
The excitement of the blood is young, -
But the days run and the blood runs cold!
Who can resist separation
The temptation of a new beauty
Against fatigue and boredom
And the willfulness of dreams?
Not! not you, my friend,
Find out, appointed by fate
Wither silently in a tight circle
Jealous rudeness slave,
Among the cowardly and cold,
False friends and enemies
Fear and fruitless hopes,
Empty and painful labors!
Sad behind the high wall
You will not die without passions,
Among the prayers, equally far
From god and people.
Oh no, beautiful creature
You are assigned to something else;
Other suffering awaits you.
Other delights depth;
Leave your old desires
And the miserable light of his fate:
The abyss of proud knowledge
In return, I will open it for you.
A crowd of my office spirits
I will bring you to your feet;
Handmaidens of light and magical
To you, beauty, I will give;
And for you from the eastern star
I will pluck a golden crown;
I'll take the midnight dew from the flowers;
I will put him to sleep with that dew;
A beam of ruddy sunset
Your camp, like a ribbon, I will wrap,
With a breath of pure fragrance
I will drink the surrounding air;
All the time wonderful game
I will cherish your hearing;
I will build magnificent halls
From turquoise and amber;
I will sink to the bottom of the sea
I will fly beyond the clouds
I will give you everything, everything earthly -
Love me!..

XI

And he's a little
Touched with hot lips
Her trembling lips;
Temptation full speeches
He answered her prayers.
A mighty gaze gazed into her eyes!
He burned her. In the darkness of the night
Above her, he sparkled,
Irresistible as a dagger.
Alas! the evil spirit triumphed!
The deadly poison of his kiss
Instantly penetrated into her chest.
Anguished, terrible scream
Night revolted the silence.
It was everything: love, suffering.
Rebuke with a last plea
And a hopeless goodbye
Farewell to young life.

XII

At that time the midnight watchman
One around the wall is steep
Quietly completing the appointed path.
Wandered with a cast-iron board,
And near the cell of the young virgin
He tamed his measured step
And a hand over a cast iron board,
Confused, he stopped.
And through the surrounding silence,
He thought he heard
Two mouths consonant kiss,
A momentary cry and a faint moan.
And unholy doubt
Penetrated into the heart of the old man ...
But another moment passed
And everything was quiet; from afar
Just a breath of wind
The murmuring of the leaves brought
Yes, with a dark coast sadly
The mountain river whispered.
Saint's saint's canon
He hurries to read in fear,
So that the obsession of an evil spirit
Drive away from sinful thought;
Crosses with trembling fingers
Dream agitated chest
And silently with quick steps
The regular one continues on.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

XIII

Like a peri sleeping sweetheart
She lay in her coffin
Whiter and cleaner bedspreads
There was a languid color of her brow.
Forever lowered eyelashes ...
But who would, oh heaven! didn't say
That the gaze below them only dozed
And, wonderful, just expected
Or a kiss, or dennitsa?
But it's useless daylight beam
Sliding over them with a golden stream,
In vain they are in mute sadness
Kissing lips...
Not! death eternal seal
Nothing can break it!

XIV

Never been in the days of fun
So colorful and rich
Tamara's festive outfit.
Flowers of the native gorge
(So ​​the ancient requires the rite)
They pour their fragrance over her
And, squeezed by a dead hand.
How to say goodbye to the earth!
And nothing in her face
Didn't hint at the end
In the heat of passion and ecstasy;
And were all her features
Filled with that beauty
Like marble, alien expression.
Deprived of feeling and mind,
Mysterious as death itself.
A strange smile froze
Flickering across her lips.
Talked about a lot of sad things
She attentive eyes:
There was cold contempt in her
Soul ready to bloom
The last thought expression,
Forgive the soundless earth.
A vain reflection of the life of the past,
She was even deader
Still more hopeless for the heart
Forever faded eyes.
So at the hour of the solemn sunset,
When, melted in a sea of ​​gold,
The chariot of the day has already disappeared,
Snow of the Caucasus, for a moment
The tide is ruddy,
They shine in the dark distance.
But this beam is half alive
In the desert you will not meet a reflection,
And it won't light anyone's path
From its icy peak!..

XV

A crowd of neighbors and relatives
Already gathered in a sad way.
Tormenting gray curls,
Silently hitting the chest
Goodal sits down for the last time
On a white-maned horse
And the train started moving. Three days.
Three nights their journey will last:
Between the old grandfather's bones
The shelter of the deceased was dug for her.
One of the forefathers of Gudal,
Robber of wanderers and villages,
When sickness took hold of him
And the hour of repentance has come
Sins past in redemption
He promised to build a church
On top of the granite rocks
Where only blizzards hear singing,
Where only the kite flew.
And soon between the snows of Kazbek
A lonely temple has risen
And the bones of an evil man
We calmed down there again;
And turned into a graveyard
Rock native to the clouds:
Like closer to heaven
Warmer posthumous dwelling? ..
As if further from people
The last dream will not be indignant ...
In vain! the dead won't dream
No sadness, no joy of the past days.

XVI

In the space of blue ether
One of the angels of the saints
Flying on golden wings
And a sinful soul from the world
He carried in his arms.
And sweet speech of hope
Dispelled her doubts
And a trace of misconduct and suffering
He washed away her tears.
From afar the sounds of paradise
They reached them - when suddenly,
Free path crossing,
An infernal spirit rose up from the abyss.
He was powerful, like a noisy whirlwind,
Shined like lightning,
And proudly in insane insolence
He says: "She's mine!"

She clung to her protective chest,
Prayer drowned out the horror,
Tamara sinful soul -
The fate of the future was decided
Again he stood before her,
But, God! - who would recognize him?
With what an evil look he looked,
How full of deadly poison
Enmity that knows no end -
And breathed grave cold
From a motionless face.
"Disappear, gloomy spirit of doubt! -
The heavenly messenger replied:
You have triumphed enough;
But the hour of judgment has now come -
And God's decision!
The days of testing are over;
With the clothes of the mortal earth
The shackles of evil fell from her.
Find out! we have been waiting for it for a long time!
Her soul was one of those
Whose life is one moment
unbearable pain,
Unattainable pleasures:
Creator from the best ether
Weaved their living strings,
They are not made for the world
And the world was not created for them!
Redeemed at the price of cruel
She has her doubts...
She suffered and loved -
And heaven opened for love!"

And the angel with stern eyes
Looked at the tempter
And with joyful flapping of wings,
I drowned in the radiance of the sky.
And cursed Demon defeated
Your crazy dreams
And again he remained, arrogant,
Alone, as before, in the universe
Without hope and love!

_________________

On the slope of a stone mountain
Above the Koishaur valley
Still standing to this day
The teeth are the ruins of an old one.
Stories scary for children
There are still stories about them...
Like a ghost, a silent monument,
Witness those magical days.
Blackens between the trees.
The village crumbled below.
The earth blossoms and turns green;
And voices discordant rumble
Gets lost and caravans
They go, ringing, from afar,
And, plunging through the mists,
The river sparkles and foams.
And life forever young.
Coolness, sun and spring
Nature is joking,
Like a carefree child.

But sad is the castle that has served
Years in turn
Like a poor old man who survived
Friends and lovely family.
And just waiting for the moon to rise
Its invisible inhabitants:
Then they have a holiday and freedom!
Buzzing, running in all directions.
Gray-haired spider, new hermit,
Spins the webs of its warp;
Green lizard family
Plays merrily on the roof;
And a wary snake
Creeps out of a dark hole
On the slab of the old porch,
Then suddenly it will fit into three rings,
That will lie in a long strip
And shines like a damask sword,
Forgotten in the field of old sich,
Unnecessary to the fallen hero!..
Everything is wild; there are no traces anywhere
Years gone by: the hand of the ages
Diligently, swept them away for a long time,
And don't remember anything
About the glorious name of Gudala,
Oh, his dear daughter!

But the church is on a steep peak,
Where are the bones taken by their earth,
We keep the power of the saint,
It is still visible between the clouds.
And at her gate stand
On guard are black granites,
Covered with cloaks of snow;
And on their chest instead of armor
The eternal ice is burning.
Falls sleepy bulks
From the ledges, like waterfalls,
Frost seized suddenly
They hang around frowning.
And there the blizzard walks on patrol,
Blowing dust off gray walls
That song starts a long one,
That calls out to sentries;
Hearing news in the distance
About a wonderful temple, in that country,
There are only clouds from the east
The crowd rush to worship;
But over a family of tombstones
Nobody is sad for a long time.
Rock of the gloomy Kazbek
Prey greedily guards,
And the eternal murmur of man
Their eternal peace will not disturb.

Sad Demon, spirit of exile,

He flew over the sinful earth,
And better days of remembrance
A crowd crowded before him;
Those days when in the dwelling of light
He shone, a pure cherub,
When a running comet
A smile of affectionate greetings
Loved to trade with him

When through eternal fogs,

Greedy for knowledge, he followed
Nomadic caravans
In the space of abandoned luminaries;
When he believed and loved
Happy firstborn of creation!
He knew neither malice nor doubt.
And did not threaten his mind
A barren series of centuries...
And many, many... and everything
He did not have the strength to remember! .. (c)
Mikhail Lermontov. Daemon

In 1891, Vrubel was asked to illustrate the collected works of M.Yu. Lermontov.
In a letter to his sister, Vrubel writes: “For a month now I have been writing the Demon, that is, not exactly the monumental Demon, which I will write over time, but “demonic”. A half-naked, winged, young, sadly thoughtful figure sits, hugging her knees, against the background of a sunset and looks at a flowering meadow, from which branches bending under flowers stretch out to her.

Mikhail Vrubel.
Demon seated. 1890.
Tretyakov Gallery, Russia.

Perhaps the commission for the construction of the Vladimir Cathedral in Kyiv also pushed the artist to the demonic theme, which rejected his series of sketches for murals. But Vrubel's biographers claim that work on the "demonic" theme was started in 1885. This is confirmed by the words of the artist himself "... that is, not that of a monumental Demon, which I will write over time ...." Only a well-thought-out idea can be thought of in the light of a long-term perspective.

The first demon of Vrubel was written in 1890, in the house of S. Mamontov. “Seated Demon” is a young man who is either dull or bored. This is an image of proud, painful loneliness, which has a beginning, but is endless in its duration. Vrubel's demon is not a caricature Gogol's devil and not a biblical devil seducing Christ. This is something pensive, longing, suffering ...

Appears in the same year "Head of the Demon against the backdrop of mountains", where the demon looks longingly into an unknown space.

He is alert, he is preparing to look into a world in which he has no place. And again, Vrubel depicted not an abstract being, not a blind universal evil that had fallen away from God. Vrubel's demon does not seduce anyone, does not exalt himself over anyone, he is outwardly passive, but in his gloomy face, in a frozen look, one feels the energy of thought and philosophical contemplation.

In 1899, "The Flying Demon" was written. The picture is almost abstract, full of movement and swiftness. The demon stood up and flew over the tops of the mountains in the currents of air, towards the dark sky.

Flying Demon "Mikhail Vrubel, 1899.

In 1901-1902, "Demon Defeated" was written - a dynamic moment, full of colors and tragic movement. The motionless action and calmness of “Seated Demon” and “Demon’s Head”, the feeling of free flight in “Flying Demon”, is replaced by the chaos of falling, in which it is difficult to make out where are desperately outstretched arms, where are powerless, broken wings, and where is the world that rejected the demon.

Mikhail Vrubel. Demon defeated.
1902. Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia.

Demon defeated. Sketch

Demon defeated. Sketch

The fate of Vrubel is tragic. Madness. Blindness. It seems that the demons suddenly revealed their secret to him, and the mind of the artist could not contain it. Alexandre Benois, who watched Vrubel nervously copy the Demon Downcast, which was already hanging in the exhibition hall and open to the public, later recalled: “I believe that the Prince of Peace posed for him. There is something deeply truthful in these terrible and beautiful pictures, moving to tears. His Demon remained true to his nature. He, who fell in love with Vrubel, nevertheless deceived him. These sessions were sheer mockery and teasing. Vrubel saw either one or another feature of his deity, then both at once, and in pursuit of this elusive, he quickly began to move towards the abyss, to which he was driven by the passion for the damned. His madness was the logical end to his demonism."

Demon seated. Sketch

After completing his work on drawings for Lermontov, Vrubel did not return to the demonic theme for a very long time. Didn't come back to come back one day - and stay with her forever. In the last years of his life, the theme of the Demon became central to Vrubel's life. . He created many drawings, sketches and painted three huge paintings on this theme - the Demon sitting, the Demon flying and the Demon defeated. He continued to “improve” the last of them even when it was already exhibited in the gallery, thereby surprising and frightening the public. By this time, the deterioration of the physical and mental state of the artist dates back, which only added fuel to the fire and strengthened the legend that had already arisen about the master who sold his soul to the devil. But, as Vrubel himself said , They don’t understand the demon - they confuse it with the devil and the devil, while the “devil” in Greek simply means “horned”, the devil is “slanderer”, and “Demon” means “soul” and personifies the eternal struggle of the restless human spirit, seeking reconciliation overwhelmed his passions, knowledge of life and not finding an answer to his doubts either on earth or in heaven.

Eastern story

Sad Demon, spirit of exile,

He flew over the sinful earth,

And better days of remembrance

A crowd crowded before him;

Those days when in the dwelling of light

He shone, a pure cherub,

When a running comet

A smile of affectionate greetings

Loved to trade with him

When through eternal fogs,

Greedy for knowledge, he followed

Nomadic caravans

In the space of abandoned luminaries;

When he believed and loved

Happy firstborn of creation!

He knew neither malice nor doubt.

And did not threaten his mind

A barren series of centuries...

And many, many... and everything

He did not have the strength to remember!

Long outcast wandered

In the wilderness of a world without shelter:

After the century, the century fled,

Like a minute a minute

Uniform sequence.

Insignificant dominating the earth,

He sowed evil without pleasure.

Nowhere to your art

He met no resistance

And evil bored him.

And over the peaks of the Caucasus

The exile of paradise flew by:

Under it, Kazbek, like a facet of a diamond,

Shined with eternal snows,

And, deep down blackening,

Like a crack, a serpent's dwelling,

The radiant Daryal curled,

And Terek, jumping like a lioness

With a shaggy mane on the ridge,

Roared, - and a mountain beast and a bird,

Circling in the azure height

Heeded the word of his waters;

And golden clouds

From the southern countries, from afar

He was escorted north;

And the rocks in a tight crowd,

Full of mysterious slumber,

Bowed their heads over him

Following the flickering waves;

And towers of castles on the rocks

Looked menacingly through the mists -

At the gates of the Caucasus on the clock

Guard Giants!

And wild and wonderful was around

All God's world; but a proud spirit

looked contemptuously

Creation of your god

And on his high forehead

Nothing was reflected.

And in front of him is a different picture

Living colors bloomed:

Luxurious Georgia Valley

Carpet spread out in the distance;

Happy, lush end of the earth!

Pillar-shaped rains.

Ringing running streams

Along the bottom of multi-colored stones,

And bushes of roses, where the nightingales

Sing beauties, unrequited

Chinar spreading canopy,

Thick crowned with ivy.

Caves where the scorching day

Timid deer lurk;

And shine, and life, and the noise of sheets,

The breath of a thousand plants!

And half a day voluptuous heat,

And fragrant dew

Always wet nights

And stars as bright as eyes

Like the look of a young Georgian woman!..

But, apart from cold envy,

Nature did not excite the brilliance

In the exile's barren chest

No new feelings, no new forces;

And all that he saw before him

He despised or hated.

Tall house, wide yard

Gray-haired Gudal built himself ...

Works and tears, he cost a lot

Slaves obedient for a long time.

In the morning on the slope of neighboring mountains

Shadows cast from its walls.

Steps are cut into the rock;

They are from the corner tower

They lead to the river, flickering along them,

Covered with white veil,

Princess Tamara young

He goes to Aragva for water.

Always silent on the valleys

I looked from the cliff a gloomy house;

But there is a big feast in it today -

Zurna sounds, and guilt pours -

Gudal betrothed his daughter,

He called the whole family to the feast.

On the carpeted roof

The bride sits between her friends:

Among games and songs their leisure

Passes. distant mountains

The semicircle of the sun is already hidden;

Striking in the palm of your hand,

They sing - and their tambourine

The young bride takes.

And here she is, with one hand

Circling it over your head

Then suddenly it rushes lighter than a bird,

It will stop, look -

And her wet eyes shine

From under an envious eyelash;

That will lead with a black eyebrow,

Then suddenly it leans a little,

And glides on the carpet, floats

Her divine foot;

And she smiles

Full of children's fun.

But a ray of the moon, in unsteady moisture

Slightly playing at times

Hardly compares to that smile

Like life, like youth, alive

I swear by the midnight star

Beam of sunset and east,

Ruler of Persia golden

And not a single king of the earth

I did not kiss such an eye;

Harem Sprinkling Fountain

Never hot sometimes

With its pearly dew

I did not wash such a camp!

Still no one's earthly hand,

Wandering over the sweet brow,

She did not unravel such hair;

Ever since the world lost paradise

I swear she's such a beauty

Under the sun of the south did not bloom.

She danced for the last time.

Alas! expected in the morning

Her, the heiress of Gudal.

Freedom frisky child

The fate of the sad slave

Fatherland, alien to this day,

And an unknown family.

And often secret doubt

Dark light features;

And all her movements were

So slender, full of expression,

So full of sweet simplicity

What if the Demon, flying,

At that time he looked at her

Then, remembering the former brothers,

He turned away b - and sighed ...

And the Demon saw... For a moment

inexplicable excitement

He suddenly felt in himself.

The dumb soul of his desert

Filled with blessed sound -

And again he comprehended the shrine

Love, kindness and beauty! ..

And long sweet picture

He admired - and dreams

About the former happiness with a long chain,

Like a star behind a star

They rolled before him then.

Bound by an invisible force

He became familiar with the new sadness;

A feeling suddenly spoke in him

once native language.

Was that a sign of rebirth?

He is the words of insidious temptation

I couldn't find it in my mind...

Forget? I did not give oblivion God:

Yes, he would not take oblivion! ..

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Having exhausted a good horse,

To the wedding feast at sunset

The impatient groom hurried.

Aragva light he happily

Reached the green shores.

Under the heavy burden of gifts

Barely, barely crossing

Behind him camels a long line

The road stretches, flickering:

Their bells are ringing.

He himself, the ruler of the Synodal.

Leading a rich caravan.

A dexterous camp is tightened with a belt;

Saber and dagger frame

Shines in the sun; behind the back

The gun with notch notch.

The wind plays with its sleeves

His chuhi - all around she

All trimmed with galloon.

Colored embroidered silk

His saddle; bridle with brushes;

Under it, a dashing horse covered in soap

Priceless suit, golden.

Pet frisky Karabakh

It spins with ears and, full of fear,

Snoring squints with steepness

On the foam of a galloping wave.

Dangerous, narrow is the coastal path!

Cliffs on the left side

To the right is the depth of the rebellious river.

It's too late. At the top of the snow

The blush fades; fog came up...

The caravan stepped up.

And here is the chapel on the road...

Here for a long time rests in God

Some prince, now a saint,

Killed by a vengeful hand.

Since then, for a holiday or for a battle,

Wherever the traveler hurries,

Always fervent prayer

He brought at the chapel;

And that prayer saved

From a Muslim dagger.

But the daring groom despised

The custom of their great-grandfathers.

His insidious dream

The crafty Demon was indignant:

He is in my thoughts, under the darkness of the night,

Kissed the lips of the bride.

Suddenly, two people flashed ahead,

And more - a shot! - what?..

Standing up on ringing stirrups,

Pulling dads on his eyebrows,

The brave prince did not say a word;

A Turkish trunk flashed in his hand,

Whip I click and, like an eagle,

He rushed... and shot again!

And a wild cry and a deaf moan

Rushed into the depths of the valley -

The battle did not last long:

The timid Georgians fled!

Everything was quiet; huddled in a crowd,

On the corpses of riders sometimes

The camels looked on in horror;

And deaf in the silence of the steppe

Their bells rang.

A magnificent caravan was plundered;

And over the bodies of Christians

Draws circles night bird!

No peaceful tomb awaits them

Under a layer of monastic slabs,

Where the ashes of their fathers were buried;

Sisters with mothers will not come,

Covered with long veils

With longing, sobs and prayers,

To their coffin from distant places!

But with a diligent hand

Here by the road, over the rock

A cross will be erected in memory;

And the ivy that grew in the spring

He, caressing, will wrap around

With its emerald net;

And, having turned off the difficult road,

More than once a tired pedestrian

Rest under God's shadow...

The horse runs faster than the deer.

Snoring and torn, as if to scold;

Then suddenly besiege at a gallop,

Listens to the wind

Widely flaring nostrils;

That, at once hitting the ground

With thorns of sonorous hooves,

Waving his tousled mane,

It flies forward without memory.

It has a silent rider!

He beats on the saddle sometimes,

Leaning on the mane with his head.

He no longer rules the occasions

Putting your feet in the stirrups,

And blood in wide streams

You can see him on the saddle.

Dashing horse, you are the master

Brought out of the battle like an arrow

But an evil Ossetian bullet

Caught him in the dark!

In the Gudala family weeping and groaning,

People are crowding in the yard:

Whose horse rushed on fire

And fell on the stones at the gate?

Who is this breathless rider?

Kept a trail of swearing anxiety

Wrinkles of a swarthy brow.

In the blood of weapons and dress;

In the last frenzied shake

The hand on the mane froze.

Not for long the young groom,

Bride, your gaze was waiting:

He kept the prince's word,

He rode to the wedding feast...

Alas! but never again

Do not sit on a dashing horse! ..

For a carefree family

God's punishment flew like thunder!

Fell on her bed

Sobs poor Tamara;

Tear after tear

The chest is high and difficult to breathe;

And now she seems to hear

"Don't cry, child! don't cry in vain!

Your tear on a mute corpse

Living dew will not fall:

She only blurs her clear eyes.

Virgin cheeks burn!

He is far away, he does not know

Will not appreciate your anguish;

Heavenly light now caresses

The disembodied gaze of his eyes;

He hears heavenly tunes...

That life is petty dreams

And the groans and tears of the poor maiden

For a guest of the heavenly side?

No, the lot of mortal creation

I'm going to class

“In the space of abandoned luminaries...”

I AM GOING TO THE LESSON

Tatyana SKRYABINA,
Moscow

“In the space of abandoned luminaries...”

Lermontov wrote the poem "Demon" for a long time (1829-1839), never daring to publish it. Many heroes of Lermontov are marked with the seal of demonism: Vadim, Izmail-Bey, Arbenin, Pechorin. Lermontov also refers to the image of the demon in the lyrics (“My Demon”). The poem has deep cultural and historical roots. One of the first references to the demon refers to antiquity, where "demonic" marks the most diverse human impulses - the desire for knowledge, wisdom, happiness. This is a double of a person, his inner voice, part of his unknown “I”. For the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates, the "demonic" is associated with the knowledge of oneself.

The biblical myth speaks of a demon - a fallen angel who rebelled against God. The demon as a spirit of denial will appear in medieval legends, Milton's Paradise Lost, Byron's Cain, Goethe's Faust, in the poems of A.S. Pushkin "Demon", "Angel". Here the demon is the double of Satan, "the enemy of man."

V. Dahl's dictionary defines a demon as "an evil spirit, the devil, Satan, a demon, a devil, an unclean, evil one." The demon is associated with all manifestations of the satanic principle - from a formidable spirit to a "small demon" - crafty and unclean.

Lermontov's poem is full of echoes of various meanings - biblical, cultural, mythological. The demon of Lermontov combines the Mephistopheles and the human - it is a wanderer, rejected by heaven and earth, and an internally contradictory human consciousness.

The Demon of Lermontov differed from his predecessors in his versatility. Demon - "king of heaven", "evil", "free son of ether", "gloomy son of doubt", "arrogant" and "ready to love". The first line of the poem “The Sad Demon, the spirit of exile...” immediately introduces us into a circle of contradictory and ambiguous meanings. It is noteworthy that Lermontov passed this line through all editions, leaving it unchanged. The definition of “sad” immerses us in the world of human experiences: the Demon is endowed with the human ability to suffer. But the “demon, spirit” is an incorporeal creature, alien to the “sinful earth”. At the same time, the “spirit of exile” is a character of the biblical legend, in the past – the “happy first-born of creation”, expelled from the “home of light”.

Combining in its nature the human, angelic and satanic, the Demon is contradictory. At the heart of its essence is an unresolvable internal conflict. Rejection of the idea of ​​goodness and beauty - and "inexplicable excitement" in front of them, freedom of expression - and dependence on "one's God", total skepticism - and hope for rebirth, indifference - and passion for Tamara, titanism - and oppressive loneliness, power over the world - and demonic isolation from him, readiness to love - and hatred of God - the nature of the Demon is woven from these numerous contradictions.

The demon is frighteningly indifferent. The world of heavenly harmony and beauty is alien to him; The joyful, beating rhythm of life, “a hundred-sounding voices”, “the breath of a thousand plants” give rise to only hopeless sensations in his soul. The demon is also indifferent to the very goal, the essence of his being. “He sowed evil without pleasure, / Nowhere to his art / He did not meet resistance - / And evil bored him.”

In the first part of the poem, the Demon is an incorporeal spirit. He is not yet endowed with frightening, repulsive features. “Neither day nor night, neither darkness nor light!”, “Looks like a clear evening” - this is how the Demon appears before Tamara, pouring into her mind “a prophetic and strange dream”, “a magical voice”. The demon reveals itself to Tamara not only as a “foggy stranger” - in his promises, “golden dreams” there is a call - a call to the “earthly without participation”, to overcome the temporary, imperfect human existence, to get out from under the yoke of laws, to break the “shackles of the soul”. The “Golden Dream” is that wondrous world with which a person said goodbye forever, leaving paradise, the heavenly homeland, and which he searches in vain on earth. Not only the soul of a demon, but also the soul of a person is full of memories of the "home of light", echoes of other songs - that's why it is so easy to "stupefy", bewitch it. The demon intoxicates Tamara with "golden dreams" and the nectar of being - earthly and heavenly beauties: "music of the spheres" and the sounds of "wind under the rock", "bird", "air ocean" and "night flowers".

The demon of the second part is a rebel, an infernal spirit. He is blatantly inhuman. The key images of the second part - a poisonous kiss, "an inhuman tear" - are reminiscent of the stamp of rejection, the "alienity" of the Demon to everything that exists. The kiss, with its richest, most mysterious meaning, reveals the impossibility of harmony, the impossibility of merging for two such different beings. The conflict of two worlds, two heterogeneous entities (earthly and heavenly, rock and cloud, demonic and human), their fundamental incompatibility is at the heart of Lermontov's work. The poem, created by Lermontov throughout his life, was written “according to the canvas” of this insoluble contradiction.

The love of the Demon opens up to Tamara “an abyss of proud knowledge”, it is different from the “minute” love of a person: “Do you not know what // People's minute love is? // The excitement of the blood is young, - // But the days run and the blood freezes!” The Demon's oath is imbued with contempt for human existence on earth, "where there is neither true happiness, / nor lasting beauty", where they do not know how to "neither hate nor love." Instead of the “empty and painful labors” of life, the Demon offers his beloved an ephemeral world, “above-star regions”, in which the best, highest moments of human existence are immortalized. The demon also promises dominion: the elements of air, earth, water, the crystalline structure of the bowels are revealed to Tamara. But the palaces of turquoise and amber, a crown from a star, a ray of a ruddy sunset, a “wonderful game”, “a breath of pure aroma”, the bottom of the sea and clouds are a utopia woven from poetic revelations, delights, secrets. This flying reality is illusory, unbearable and forbidden for a person, it can only be resolved by death - and Tamara dies.

The Demon's love is as contradictory as his nature. The oath in the cell is a renunciation of evil acquisitions and at the same time a means of seduction, the “destruction” of Tamara. And is it possible to believe the words of a creature rebellious against God, sounding in God's cell?

I want to reconcile with the sky
I want to love, I want to pray
I want to believe good.

In the love of the Demon, in his oaths merged: human excitement, heart impulse, “crazy dream”, thirst for rebirth - and a challenge to God. As a character, God never appears in the poem. But His presence is unconditional, it is to Him that the Demon turns its rebellion. Throughout the poem, the beautiful daughter Gudala also mentally aspires to God. Leaving for a monastery, she becomes His novice, His chosen one, “His shrine.”

On behalf of God, an angel acts in the poem; powerless on earth, he defeats the Demon in heaven. The first meeting with the Angel in Tamara's cell awakens hatred in the "heart full of pride." It is obvious that a sharp and fatal turn is taking place in the Demon's love - now he is fighting for Tamara with God:

Your shrine is no longer here
Here I own and love!

From now on (or initially?), the love of the Demon, his kisses are insisted on hatred and anger, intransigence and the desire to win back the “girlfriend” from heaven at all costs. Terrible, devoid of a poetic halo, his image after the posthumous “treason” of Tamara:

With what an evil look he looked,
How full of deadly poison
Enmity that knows no end -
And breathed grave cold
From a motionless face.

Haughty, having not found a home in the universe, the Demon remains a reproach to God, “proof” of the disharmony, disorder of God's beautiful world. The question remains open: is the tragic failure of the Demon predetermined by God or is it the result of the free choice of a rebellious spirit? Is this tyranny or a fair duel?

Complex, ambiguous and the image of Tamara. At the beginning of the poem, this is an innocent soul with a very definite and typical fate:

Alas! In the morning I expected
Her, heiress of Gudal,
Freedom frisky child
The fate of the sad slave
The homeland is still alien,
And an unknown family.

But immediately the image of Tamara approaches the first woman, the biblical Eve. She, like the Demon, is the “first-born of creation”: “Since the world lost paradise, // I swear, such a beauty // Has not bloomed under the sun of the south.” Tamara is both an earthly maiden, and a “shrine of love, goodness and beauty”, for which there is an eternal dispute between the Demon and God, and “dear daughter” Gudala - the sister of Pushkin’s “dear Tatiana”, and a person capable of spiritual growth. Listening to the speeches of the Demon, her soul “breaks the shackles”, gets rid of innocent ignorance. The “wonderful new voice” of knowledge burns Tamara's soul, gives rise to an insoluble internal conflict, it contradicts her way of life, her usual ideas. The freedom that the Demon opens to her also means the rejection of everything that was before, spiritual discord. This makes me decide to go to the monastery. At the same time, Tamara, listening to the power of song, the aesthetic “dope”, “the music of the spheres”, dreams of bliss, succumbs to the demonic temptation and inevitably prepares for herself the “deadly poison of kissing”. But Tamara's farewell outfit is festive, her face is marble, nothing speaks of "the end in the heat of passion and rapture" - the heroine escapes from her seducer, paradise opens up for her.

Foreign editions of the poem by M.Yu. Lermontov "Demon".

Tamara's dying cry, her parting with life is the author's warning against the deadly poison of demonism. The poem contains an important anti-demonic theme - the unconditional value of human life. Compassionate about the death of Tamara's “remote fiancé”, the farewell of his heroine to her “young life”, Lermontov rises above the individualistic contempt of the Demon, and, more broadly, above the sublime contempt of the romantic hero. And although Lermontov, not without some demonic irony, contemplates in the finale the mortal “civilizing” efforts of a person that the “hand of time” erases, he still looks at life as a gift and blessing, and its taking away as an undeniable evil. The demon disappears from the epilogue: the world is depicted free from its grumbling, the reader is presented with God's grandiose plan - a monumental picture of "God's creation", "forever young nature", absorbing all doubts and human deeds. If at the beginning of the poem the pictures of life were enlarged, detailed - the Demon was descending, “losing height”, approaching the Earth, then in the finale the earthly things are seen from the “steep peaks”, from the skies – in an instructive panoramic inclusiveness. The "God's world" is immeasurably larger, more voluminous than any fate, any understanding, and everything disappears in its infinity - starting with a "minute" person and ending with an immortal rebel.

Behind the fantastic plot of the poem, concrete, burning human questions arose. Demonic grief over lost values ​​and hopes, sadness about “a lost paradise and the everlasting consciousness of one’s fall to death, for eternity” (Belinsky) were close to the disappointed generation of the 1930s. The rebellious Demon saw an unwillingness to put up with “normative morality”, the official values ​​of the era. Belinsky saw in the Demon “a demon of movement, eternal renewal, eternal rebirth ...” The rebellious nature of the demonic, the struggle for the freedom of the personal principle, for “personal rights” came to the fore. At the same time, demonic coldness was akin to the indifference of the post-December generation, “shamefully indifferent to good and evil.” Obsession with philosophical doubt, lack of clear guidelines, restlessness - in a word, “the hero of the time”.

The Demon ends the era of high romanticism, opening up new psychological and philosophical possibilities in the romantic plot. As the brightest work of romanticism, The Demon is built on contrasts: God and Demon, heaven and earth, mortal and eternal, struggle and harmony, freedom and tyranny, earthly love and heavenly love. In the center is a bright, exceptional individuality. But Lermontov does not limit himself to these oppositions and interpretations typical of romanticism, he fills them with new content. Many romantic antitheses are reversed: gloomy sophistication is inherent in the heavenly, angelic purity and purity - in the earthly. The polar principles not only repel, but also attract, the poem is distinguished by the extreme complexity of the characters. The Demon's conflict is wider than a romantic conflict: first of all, it is a conflict with oneself - internal, psychological.

The elusiveness of flickering meanings, the versatility, the stratification of various mythological, cultural, religious overtones, the diversity of characters, the psychological and philosophical depth - all this put the "Demon" at the pinnacle of romanticism and at the same time at its borders.

Questions and tasks

1. What does the word “demon” mean? Tell us how “demonic” was understood in the era of antiquity, in Christian mythology?
2. What distinguished Demon Lermontov from his “predecessors”?
3. Write down all the definitions that Lermontov gives to the Demon in the poem.
4. Interpret the first line of the poem: “The sad demon, the spirit of exile...”
5. What is the internal conflict of the Demon?
6. How is the Demon of the first part of the poem different from the Demon of the second part?
7. Read the song of the Demon "On the ocean of air ..." (part 1, stanza 15). Explain the lines: “Be to the earthly without participation // And be careless, like them!” In what other works of Lermontov does the theme of an indifferent, distant sky appear? How to understand the expression "golden dreams"?
8. What is the meaning of the confrontation between the Demon and God? What role does the angel play in the poem? Compare two episodes: the meeting of the Angel with the Demon in Tamara's cell, the meeting of the Angel with the Demon in heaven.
9. Read the Demon's appeal to Tamara (“I am the one who listened to ...”). Follow his melody, intonation, compare the Demon's speech with his song in the first part.
10. Read the Demon's oath (“I swear by the first day of creation...”). Why does the Demon scorn human love, the very being of man? How does he seduce Tamara?
11. Why is the Demon's kiss fatal for Tamara?
12. Tell us about Tamara. Why, of all mortals, does the “gloomy spirit” choose her? Why did she, the beloved of the Demon, discover paradise?
13. Find in the poem words and images related to the realm of nature. Please note that Lermontov depicts air, earth, crystalline depths, the underwater world, animals, birds, insects.
14. Read the epilogue (“On the slope of a stone mountain...”). What is the meaning of "panoramic", inclusiveness of the described picture? Why does the “demonic evil eye” disappear from the epilogue? Compare the epilogue with the pictures of nature in the first part.
15. How do you understand what “demonism”, “demonic personality” is? Do such people really exist in modern life? What, in your opinion, was Lermontov's attitude towards “demonism”?
16. Read the modern “demonological” novel by V. Orlov “Violist Danilov”.
17. Write an essay on the topic "What is the internal conflict of the Demon?".

Literature

Mann Y. Demon. Dynamics of Russian romanticism. M., 1995.
Lermontov Encyclopedia. M., 1999.
Loginovskaya E. Poem M.Yu. Lermontov "Demon". M., 1977.
Orlov V. Violist Danilov. M., 1994.