On seashore far a green oak towers, And to it with a gold chain bound, A learned cat whiles away the hours By walking slowly round and round. To right he walks, and sings a ditty; To left he walks, and tells a tale… A strange place! There a mermaid sits in A tree; there prowls a sprite; on trails Unknown to man move beasts unseen by His eyes; there stands on chicken feet, Without a door or e'en a window, A tiny hut, a hag's retreat. Both wood and valley there are teeming With wondrous things… When dawn comes, gleaming Waves o'er the sands and grasses creep, And from the clear and shining water Step thirty goodly knights escorted By their old tutor, of the deep An ancient dweller… There a dreaded Tsar by a prince is captive ta'en; There, as all watch, for cloud banks headed, Across the sea and o'er the plain, A mage a warrior bears. There, weeping, A young princess sits in a cell, And Grey Wolf serves her very well. There, in a mortar, onward sweeping All of itself, beneath the skies The wicked Baba-Yaga flies; There Tsar Koshchei o'er his hoard withers… A smell of Russ! Of Russ all breathes there! … There once was I, and the learned cat, As near him 'neath the oak I sat And drank of sweet mead at my leisure, Told me full many a tale… With pleasure These tales of his do I recall And here and now will share with all…
