A poem by Alexander Pushkin – Pouchkine, Pooshkin (1799-1837), in English translation


Through the Steppes, see there he glances!

Silent flood glad hailed by me,–

Thy far distant sons do proffer

Through me, greeting fond to thee!

Every stream knows thee as brother,

Don, thou river boasted wide!

The Araxes and Euphrates

Send thee greeting as they glide.

Fresh and strengthened for pursuing,

Scenting home within thy gleam–

Drink again the Don’ish horses,

Flowing boundary, of thy stream!

Faithful Don! There also greet thee

Thy true warriors bold and free–

Let thy vineyard’s foaming bubbles

In the glass be spilled to thee!

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