The Tale of Tsar Saltan, of His Son the Glorious and Mighty Bogatyr Prince Gvidon Saltanovich, and of the Beautiful Swan Princess

Three maidens by the window sat,
Spinning late at evening's gate.
"If I were a queen," said one,
"I'd prepare a feast for everyone,
A banquet for the world entire,
A spread to set all hearts afire."
"If I were a queen," said the second maid,
"I'd weave fine cloth, my skill displayed,
Enough to clothe the world alone,
My handiwork would be well-known."
"If I were a queen," the third maid said,
"For our father-king, I'd bear instead
A mighty hero, strong and true,
A son to serve and honor you."

No sooner had she spoken her part,
The door creaked softly, a sound to start.
Into the chamber stepped the king,
The ruler of that land, a sovereign thing.
He'd stood behind the fence, unseen,
And heard the maidens' words so keen.
The last one's speech had won his heart,
And so he chose to play his part.
"Greetings, fair maiden," the king did say,
"Be my queen without delay,
And bear me a hero, strong and bold,
By September's end, as foretold.
As for you, dear sisters dear,
Leave this chamber, disappear.
Follow me, and follow your kin,
One shall weave, the other cook within."

The king, their father, stepped outside,
And all proceeded to the palace wide.
The king did not delay or stall,
That very evening, he married them all.
King Saltan sat at the wedding feast,
With his young queen, a royal beast.
Then the guests, with honor true,
Led the couple to a bed of ivory hue,
Left them there, alone at last,
While the cook and weaver, their envy vast,
Seethed in the kitchen, wept at the loom,
Jealous of the queen's newfound room.
And the young queen, without delay,
Conceived that very night, they say.

At that time, war did rage and roar.
King Saltan, bidding his wife farewell,
Mounted his steed, and with a spell,
Told her to guard herself with care,
For he loved her beyond compare.
While he fought far away,
Battling fiercely, day by day,
The time for birth drew near,
And God granted them a son, sincere.
The queen, like an eagle o'er her young,
Watched over him, her heart high-strung.
She sent a messenger with a letter,
To bring the king news, to make him better.
But the weaver and the cook, with spite,
Along with Babarikha, full of spite,
Plotted to intercept the news,
And sent their own messenger to confuse.

They sent their own messenger with a lie:
"Last night, the queen gave birth, oh my!
Not a son, nor a daughter fair,
Not a mouse, nor a frog to bear,
But a creature strange, unknown,
A beast unlike any ever shown."

When the king heard this report,
His anger flared, his heart did distort.
He wished to hang the messenger,
But softened, and with a temper,
Gave this order: "Wait for my return,
For a lawful judgment to discern."

The messenger rode with the decree,
And arrived at last, finally.
But the weaver and the cook, with guile,
Along with Babarikha, full of bile,
Plotted to deceive him once more,
Got him drunk, and at his core,
Replaced the letter with one of their own,
And sent him back, his mind overthrown.
The drunken messenger brought this decree:
"The king commands his boyars, you see,
Without delay, without a pause,
To cast the queen and her child, because,
Into the depths of the ocean wide,
And let the waters be their guide."

The boyars, with heavy hearts,
Grieved for the king and his young queen's parts.
They entered her chamber, a solemn crowd,
And read the decree aloud.
They declared the king's cruel will,
A fate for her and her child to fulfill.
They placed them in a barrel tight,
Sealed it with tar, and rolled it with might,
And cast it into the ocean's span,
As King Saltan had commanded, their plan.

In the blue sky, stars did gleam,
In the blue sea, waves did scream.
A cloud moved across the sky,
The barrel floated, drifting by.
Like a grieving widow, the queen did cry,
Beating against the barrel, her plea to the sky.
And the child within grew fast,
Not by days, but by hours vast.
A day passed, the queen did wail...
But the child urged the waves to prevail:
"You, my wave, my wave so free,
Playful and wild, you roam the sea.
You splash where you wish, you wear down stone,
You drown the shore, you lift ships alone.
Do not destroy our souls, I pray,
Cast us ashore, show us the way!"

The wave obeyed the child's plea,
And gently brought them to the shore, you see.
The mother and child were saved at last,
They felt the earth, their trials surpassed.
But who would free them from the barrel's hold?
Would God abandon them, leave them cold?
The child stood up, his strength did grow,
Pressed his head against the barrel's base below.
He strained a little, then with a shout,
"Let's make a window to get us out!"
He broke the bottom and stepped outside,
Free at last, with nothing to hide.

Mother and son were now at large;
They saw a hill in a field so wide,
The blue sea around, an oak tree's pride.
The son thought, "A good meal we need,
To satisfy our hunger's greed."
He broke a branch from the oak tree's hold,
And bent it into a bow, strong and bold.
From a crossbow, a silk string he took,
Stretched it tight on the bow's oak nook.
He snapped a thin twig, sharpened it well,
And went to the sea, his hunger to quell.

As he approached the sea's edge near,
He heard a groan, a sound so clear.
The sea was restless, the waves did churn;
He looked and saw a sight to discern:
A swan struggled amidst the waves,
A kite above her, its talons like graves.
The poor swan thrashed, the water turned white,
While the kite prepared to strike with might.
Its claws outstretched, its beak blood-red,
But the prince's arrow flew instead.
It struck the kite in the neck, a fatal blow,
And the kite fell into the sea below.

The prince lowered his bow,
Watched as the kite sank, its death throes slow.
The swan swam near, pecked at the foe,
Hastened its end, with wings aglow.
Then the swan turned to the prince and said,
In Russian words, her gratitude spread:
"You, my prince, my savior true,
My mighty rescuer, I owe to you.
Do not grieve that for my sake,
You'll go hungry for three days' wake.
Do not mourn the arrow lost,
For this sorrow is not the cost.
I shall repay you with kindness grand,
And serve you well, as I have planned.
You did not save a swan, you see,
But a maiden, alive and free.
You did not kill a kite, but a sorcerer's guise,
And for that, you'll find a prize.
I shall never forget your deed,
You'll find me wherever you may need.
Now return, do not despair,
Go home and rest, without a care."

The swan flew off, her wings did gleam,
While the prince and queen, a curious team,
Spent the day in their newfound state,
And decided to sleep, their hunger to sate.
The prince opened his eyes at last,
Shaking off the dreams of the past...

And marveling, before him
He sees a great city,
Walls with frequent battlements,
And behind the white walls
Gleam the domes of churches
And holy monasteries.
He quickly wakes the queen;
She gasps!.. "What is this? —
He says, — I see:
My swan is amusing herself."
Mother and son head to the city.
No sooner do they step past the gates,
A deafening peal of bells
Rises from all sides:
The people rush to meet them,
The church choir praises God;
In golden carriages,
The splendid court greets them;
All loudly hail them,
And crown the prince
With a princely cap, and proclaim him
Their sovereign head;
And in the heart of his capital,
With the queen's permission,
That very day he began to rule
And was named: Prince Guidon.

The wind roams the sea
And drives the little ship;
It sails on the waves
With billowing sails.
The sailors marvel,
Crowding on the ship,
And on the familiar island
They see a wonder in reality:
A new city with golden domes,
A harbor with a strong outpost —

Cannons fire from the pier,
Commanding the ship to dock.
The guests moor at the outpost;
Prince Guidon invites them as guests,
He feeds and waters them
And bids them answer:
"What goods do you trade,
And where are you sailing now?"
The sailors reply:
"We have traveled the whole world,
Traded in sables,
In black-brown foxes;
Now our time is up,
We sail straight to the east,
Past the island of Buyan,
To the realm of the glorious Saltan..."
The prince then said to them:
"Good journey to you, gentlemen,
Across the sea, the ocean,
To the glorious Tsar Saltan;
Give him my regards."
The guests set off, and Prince Guidon
From the shore with a sorrowful heart
Watches their distant voyage;
Lo — above the flowing waters
A white swan swims.
"Greetings, my fair prince!
Why are you quiet, like a gloomy day?
What has saddened you?" —
She says to him.
The prince sadly replies:
"Sadness and longing consume me,
Overcome the young man:
I wish to see my father."
The swan to the prince: "So that's the trouble!
Well, listen: would you like to fly
Over the sea after the ship?
Then, prince, become a mosquito."
And she flapped her wings,
Splashed the water noisily,
And sprinkled him
From head to toe.
At once he shrank to a tiny size,
Turned into a mosquito,
Flew off and buzzed,
Caught up with the ship at sea,
Quietly landed
On the ship — and hid in a crack.

The wind cheerfully whistles,
The ship merrily sails
Past the island of Buyan,
To the realm of the glorious Saltan,
And the desired land
Is already visible in the distance.
Now the guests step ashore;
Tsar Saltan invites them as guests,
And after them into the palace
Flew our daring one.
He sees: all shining in gold,
Tsar Saltan sits in his chamber
On the throne and in a crown
With a sad thought on his face;
And the weaver with the cook,
With the matchmaker, Baba Babarikha,
Sit near the tsar
And gaze into his eyes.
Tsar Saltan seats the guests
At his table and asks:
"Oh, you guests, gentlemen,
How long have you traveled? Where?
Is it good or bad overseas?
And what wonders are there in the world?"
The sailors reply:
"We have traveled the whole world;
Life overseas is not bad,
But here's a wonder in the world:
In the sea was a steep island,
Not a haven, not inhabited;
It lay as an empty plain;
A single oak grew on it;
But now there stands upon it
A new city with a palace,
With golden-domed churches,
With towers and gardens,
And there sits Prince Guidon;
He sends you his regards."
Tsar Saltan marvels at the wonder;
He says: "If I live,
I will visit the wondrous island,
And stay with Guidon."
But the weaver with the cook,
With the matchmaker, Baba Babarikha,
Do not want to let him
Visit the wondrous island.
"Truly a marvel, indeed, —
Winking slyly at the others,
The cook says, —
A city by the sea!
But know this, it's no trifle:
A fir tree in the forest, under it a squirrel,
The squirrel sings songs
And gnaws on nuts,
But the nuts are not ordinary,
All the shells are golden,
The kernels — pure emerald;
Now that's what's called a wonder."
Tsar Saltan marvels at the wonder,
But the mosquito grows angry, angrier —
And the mosquito bites right
Into the aunt's left eye.
The cook turns pale,
Faints and goes blind.
Servants, matchmaker, and sister
Shout as they try to catch the mosquito.
"Damned little bug!
We'll get you!.." But he flies out the window
And calmly to his domain
Across the sea he flies.

Again the prince walks by the sea,
His eyes fixed on the blue sea;
Lo — above the flowing waters
A white swan swims.
"Greetings, my fair prince!
Why are you quiet, like a gloomy day?
What has saddened you?" —
She says to him.
Prince Guidon replies:
"Sadness and longing consume me;
I wish to see a wondrous wonder.
Somewhere there is
A fir tree in the forest, under it a squirrel;
Truly a marvel, not a trifle —
The squirrel sings songs
And gnaws on nuts,
But the nuts are not ordinary,
All the shells are golden,
The kernels — pure emerald;
But perhaps people lie."
The swan replies to the prince:
"The world speaks true of the squirrel;
I know this wonder;
Enough, prince, my soul,
Do not grieve; I am glad to serve
You in friendship."
With a heart uplifted,
The prince went home;
No sooner did he step into the wide courtyard —
What then? Under the tall fir tree,
He sees, before all,
A squirrel gnawing a golden nut,
Taking out an emerald,
And collecting the shells,
Placing them in equal piles
And singing with a whistle
Before all the honest folk:
"In the garden, in the orchard."
Prince Guidon was amazed.
"Well, thank you," he said,
"Ah, the swan — may God bless her,
For bringing me such joy."
The prince then built for the squirrel
A crystal house.
He set a guard over it
And assigned a clerk
To keep strict count of the nuts.
Profit for the prince, honor for the squirrel.
The wind roams over the sea,
And drives the little ship along;
It sails upon the waves,
With its sails raised high,
Past the steep island,
Past the great city:
Cannons fire from the pier,
Commanding the ship to dock.
The guests arrive at the outpost;
Prince Gvidon invites them as guests,
Feeds and waters them,
And demands they answer:
"What goods do you trade, good sirs,
And where do you sail now?"
The sailors reply:
"We have traveled the whole world,
Traded in horses,
All Don stallions,
But now our time has come—
And our path lies far ahead:
Past the island of Buyan,
To the realm of glorious Tsar Saltan..."
The prince then says to them:
"Safe journey to you, gentlemen,
Across the sea, across the ocean,
To the glorious Tsar Saltan;
And tell him: Prince Gvidon
Sends his regards to the tsar."

The guests bow to the prince,
Depart and set off on their way.
The prince goes to the sea—and there the swan
Already roams the waves.
The prince prays: his soul yearns,
It pulls and carries him away...
Once again, she sprays him,
And in an instant, he is drenched:
The prince turns into a fly,
Flies and lands
Between the sea and the sky
On the ship—and crawls into a crack.

The wind whistles merrily,
The ship sails joyfully
Past the island of Buyan,
To the realm of glorious Tsar Saltan—
And the longed-for land
Is already visible in the distance;
The guests step ashore;
Tsar Saltan invites them as guests,
And behind them, into the palace,
Our bold youth flies.
He sees: all gleaming in gold,
Tsar Saltan sits in the chamber
On his throne, wearing a crown,
With a sad thought on his face.
And the weaver, with Babarikha,
And the crooked cook,
Sit near the tsar.
They glare like evil toads.
Tsar Saltan seats the guests
At his table and asks:
"Oh, you guests, good sirs,
How long have you traveled? Where to?
Is life good or bad overseas?
And what wonders are there in the world?"
The sailors reply:
"We have traveled the whole world;
Life overseas is not bad;
But here is a wonder in the world:
An island lies in the sea,
A city stands on the island
With golden-domed churches,
With towers and gardens;
A spruce grows before the palace,
And beneath it, a crystal house;
A tame squirrel lives there,
And what a clever one!
The squirrel sings songs
And gnaws on nuts,
But the nuts are not ordinary,
Their shells are all of gold,
The kernels—pure emerald;
Servants guard the squirrel,
Serve her in various ways—
And a strict clerk is appointed
To keep a strict count of the nuts;
The army honors her;
Coins are minted from the shells
And circulated throughout the world;

Maidens pour emeralds
Into storerooms, under lock and key;
Everyone on that island is rich,
There are no huts, only palaces;
And Prince Gvidon sits there;
He sends you his regards."
Tsar Saltan marvels at the wonder.
"If I live long enough,
I will visit the wondrous island,
And stay with Gvidon."
But the weaver and the cook,
With the matchmaker Babarikha,
Do not want to let him go
To visit the wondrous island.
Smirking slyly,
The weaver says to the tsar:
"What is so wondrous here? Well, look!
A squirrel gnaws on stones,
Throws gold into piles
And gathers emeralds;
This does not surprise us,
Whether you speak the truth or not.
There is another wonder in the world:
The sea swells tempestuously,
Boils, raises a howl,
Rushes onto the empty shore,
Spreads in a noisy run,
And on the shore appear,
In scales, glowing like fire,
Thirty-three knights,
All handsome and bold,
Young giants,
All equal, as if chosen,
With their uncle Chernomor.
This is a wonder, a true wonder,
One can say with certainty!"
The wise guests remain silent,
They do not wish to argue with her.
Tsar Saltan marvels at the wonder,
But Gvidon grows angry, so angry...
He buzzes and in an instant
Lands on the aunt's left eye,
And the weaver turns pale:
"Ah!"—and immediately goes blind;
Everyone shouts: "Catch him, catch him,
Crush him, crush him...
Wait a moment,
Hold on..." But the prince flies out the window,
And calmly returns to his domain
Across the sea.

The prince walks by the blue sea,
His eyes fixed on the blue sea;
Look—above the flowing waters
A white swan swims.
"Greetings, my handsome prince!
Why are you quiet, like a gloomy day?
What has saddened you?"—
She says to him.
Prince Gvidon replies:
"Sorrow consumes me—
I wish to bring a wondrous wonder
To my domain."
—"And what wonder is that?"
—"Somewhere the ocean swells tempestuously,
Raises a howl,
Rushes onto the empty shore,
Spreads in a noisy run,
And on the shore appear,
In scales, glowing like fire,
Thirty-three knights,
All handsome and young,
Bold giants,
All equal, as if chosen,
With their uncle Chernomor."
The swan replies to the prince:
"Is that what troubles you, prince?
Do not grieve, my soul,
I know this wonder.
These sea knights
Are my own brothers.
Do not sorrow, go,
Await my brothers as guests."

The prince went, forgetting his sorrow,
Sat on the tower, and on the sea
He began to gaze; the sea suddenly
Stirred all around,
Spread in a noisy run
And left on the shore
Thirty-three knights;
In scales, glowing like fire,
The knights walk in pairs,
And, gleaming with gray hair,
Their uncle leads the way
And guides them to the city.
From the tower, Prince Gvidon runs down,
Meets the dear guests;
The people rush in haste;
The uncle says to the prince:
"The swan sent us to you
And instructed us
To guard your glorious city
And patrol its borders.
From now on, every day
We will surely
Appear by your high walls,
Emerging from the sea,
So we shall meet again soon,
But now it is time for us to return to the sea;
The air of the land is heavy for us."
Then they all went home.

The wind roams over the sea...
And the ship is urged onward;
It sails through the waves
With its sails raised high,
Past the steep island,
Past the great city;
Cannons fire from the pier,
Commanding the ship to dock.
The guests moor at the outpost;
Prince Guidon invites them to visit,
He feeds them and gives them drink,
And demands an answer:
"What goods do you trade, guests?
And where are you sailing now?"
The sailors reply:
"We have traveled the whole world;
We traded in damask steel,
Pure silver and gold,
And now our time is up;
But our journey is long,
Past the island of Buyan,
To the realm of the glorious Sultan."
The prince then says to them:
"Good journey to you, gentlemen,
Across the sea, across the ocean,
To the glorious Tsar Sultan.
And do tell him: Prince Guidon
Sends his regards to the Tsar."

The guests bowed to the prince,
Went out and set off on their journey.
The prince went to the sea, and there the swan
Was already walking on the waves.
The prince again: his soul yearns...
It pulls and carries him away...
And once more she
Instantly splashed him all over.
Here he shrank greatly,
The prince turned into a bumblebee,
Flew off and buzzed;
He caught up with the ship at sea,
Quietly descended
Onto the stern—and hid in a crack.

The wind whistles merrily,
The ship runs merrily
Past the island of Buyan,
To the realm of the glorious Sultan,
And the desired land
Is already visible from afar.
Here the guests stepped ashore.
Tsar Sultan invites them to visit,
And behind them to the palace
Our daring fellow flew.
He sees, all shining in gold,
Tsar Sultan sitting in the chamber
On the throne and in a crown,
With a sad thought on his face.
And the weaver with the cook,
With the matchmaker Baba Babarikha,
Sit near the Tsar—
All three looking with four eyes.
Tsar Sultan seats the guests
At his table and asks:
"Oh, you, guests and gentlemen,
How long have you traveled? Where to?
Is it good or bad overseas?
And what wonders are there in the world?"
The sailors reply:
"We have traveled the whole world;
Life overseas is not bad;
But here's a wonder in the world:
An island lies in the sea,
A city stands on the island,
Every day a miracle happens there:
The sea swells tumultuously,
Boils, raises a howl,
Rushes onto the empty shore,
Splashes in a swift run—
And remains on the shore
Thirty-three knights,
Burning in golden armor,
All young and handsome,
Mighty giants,
All equal, as if chosen;
Old uncle Chernomor
Comes out of the sea with them
And leads them out in pairs,
To guard that island
And patrol it—
And there is no guard more reliable,
No braver, no more diligent.
And Prince Guidon sits there;
He sends his regards to you."
Tsar Sultan marvels at the wonder.
"If I am still alive,
I will visit the wondrous island
And stay with the prince."
The cook and the weaver
Stay silent—but Babarikha,
Smirking, says:
"Who is surprised by this?
People come out of the sea
And patrol themselves!
Whether they speak the truth or lie,
I see no wonder here.
Are there such wonders in the world?
Here is a true rumor:
Overseas there is a princess,
One cannot take their eyes off her:
By day she eclipses the light of God,
By night she lights up the earth,
The moon shines under her braid,
And a star burns on her forehead.
And she herself is majestic,
She steps like a peacock;
And when she speaks,
It's like a stream murmurs.
One can say fairly,
This is a wonder, indeed a wonder."
The wise guests remain silent:
They do not wish to argue with the woman.
Tsar Sultan marvels at the wonder—
And though the prince is angry,
He pities the eyes
Of his old grandmother:
He buzzes and circles above her—
Lands right on her nose,
The knight stings her nose:
A blister swells on her nose.
And again there is commotion:
"Help, for God's sake!
Guard! Catch him, catch him,
Yes, crush him, crush him...
Wait! Hold on a bit,
Wait!.." But the bumblebee flies out the window,
And calmly to his domain
Across the sea he flies.

The prince walks by the blue sea,
His eyes fixed on the blue sea;
Look—above the flowing waters
A white swan swims.
"Hello, my handsome prince!
Why are you quiet, like a gloomy day?
What has saddened you?"—
She says to him.
Prince Guidon replies to her:
"Sorrow consumes me:
People marry; I look,
Only I walk unmarried."
— "And who do you have in mind?"
— "Yes, in the world,
They say, there is a princess,
One cannot take their eyes off her.
By day she eclipses the light of God,
By night she lights up the earth—
The moon shines under her braid,
And a star burns on her forehead.
And she herself is majestic,
She steps like a peacock;
Her sweet speech flows,
Like a stream murmurs.
But, tell me, is this true?"
The prince anxiously awaits the answer.
The white swan is silent
And, after thinking, says:
"Yes! Such a maiden exists.
But a wife is not a glove:
You cannot shake her off your white hand
Nor tuck her behind your belt.
I will give you advice—
Listen: think carefully about all this,
So you won't regret it later."
The prince swore before her,
That it was time for him to marry,
That he had thought carefully
About all of this;
That he was ready with a passionate soul
To walk on foot after the beautiful princess
From here
Even to the ends of the earth.
The swan then, sighing deeply,
Said: "Why so far?
Know that your fate is near,
For that princess is me."
Here she, flapping her wings,
Flew over the waves
And from the height
Descended to the shore in the bushes,
Shook herself, dusted herself off,
And turned into a princess:
The moon shines under her braid,
And a star burns on her forehead;
And she herself is majestic,
She steps like a peacock;
And when she speaks,
It's like a stream murmurs.
The prince embraces the princess,
Presses her to his white chest,
And quickly leads her
To his dear mother.
The prince falls at her feet, pleading:
"My dear sovereign mother!
I have chosen a wife for myself,
A daughter obedient to you."
We ask for both permissions,
Your blessing and benedictions:
Bless these children to live
In harmony and love."
Above their humble heads,
The mother with a miraculous icon
Sheds tears and says:
"God will reward you, my children."
The prince did not delay,
He wed the princess;
They began to live and thrive,
And awaited their offspring.

The wind roams the sea,
Pushing the ship along;
It sails through the waves
On billowing sails,
Past a steep island,
Past a great city;
Cannons fire from the pier,
Commanding the ship to dock.
The guests moor at the outpost.
Prince Guidon invites them as guests.
He feeds and waters them,
And demands an answer:
"What trade do you conduct, guests,
And where do you sail now?"
The sailors reply:
"We have traveled the whole world,
We traded not in vain
With goods unspecified;
But our journey is long:
We head back to the east,
Past the island of Buyan,
To the realm of glorious Tsar Saltan."
The prince then said to them:
"Have a good journey, sirs,
Across the ocean sea
To the glorious Tsar Saltan;
And remind him,
Your sovereign lord:
He promised to visit us,
But has not yet gathered himself—
I send him my regards."
The guests set off, and Prince Guidon
Stayed home this time
And did not part with his wife.

The wind whistles merrily,
The ship sails cheerfully
Past the island of Buyan,
To the realm of glorious Tsar Saltan,
And the familiar land
Is already visible from afar.
The guests step ashore.
Tsar Saltan invites them as guests.
The guests see: in the palace,
The tsar sits with his crown.
And the weaver, the cook,
With the matchmaker Babarikha,
Sit near the tsar,
All three watching with four eyes.
Tsar Saltan seats the guests
At his table and asks:
"Oh, you guests and sirs,
How long have you traveled? Where?
Is it good or bad overseas?
And what wonders are there in the world?"
The sailors reply:
"We have traveled the whole world;
Life overseas is not bad,
And here is a wonder in the world:
An island lies in the sea,
A city stands on the island,
With golden-domed churches,
With towers and gardens;
A spruce grows before the palace,
And beneath it, a crystal house:
A tame squirrel lives there,
And what a wonder she is!
The squirrel sings songs
And gnaws on nuts;
But the nuts are not ordinary,
Their shells are golden.
The kernels are pure emerald;
The squirrel is cherished and cared for.
There is another wonder there:
The sea swells stormily,
Boils, raises a howl,
Rushes onto the empty shore,
Sprays in a swift run,
And on the shore appear,
In scales, glowing like fire,
Thirty-three knights,
All handsome and daring,
Young giants,
All equal, as if chosen—
With them, Uncle Chernomor.
And no guard is more reliable,
Braver, or more diligent.
And the prince has a wife,
Whom one cannot take their eyes off:
By day, she outshines the sun,
By night, she lights the earth;
The moon shines under her braid,
And a star burns on her forehead.
Prince Guidon rules that city,
Everyone praises him fervently;
He sends you his regards,
And reproaches you:
He promised to visit us,
But has not yet gathered himself."

At this, the tsar could not restrain himself,
He ordered a fleet to be prepared.
But the weaver, the cook,
With the matchmaker Babarikha,
Do not want the tsar to visit
The wondrous island.
But Saltan pays them no heed
And swiftly silences them:
"Am I a tsar or a child?—"
He says, not in jest—
"I leave today!"—He stomped his foot,
Walked out, and slammed the door.

Guidon sits by the window,
Silently gazing at the sea:
It does not roar, nor splash,
Only barely trembles.
And in the azure distance,
Ships appear:
Across the plains of the ocean,
The fleet of Tsar Saltan sails.
Prince Guidon then leapt up,
Cried out loudly:
"My dear mother!
You, young princess!
Look over there:
Father is coming here."
The fleet approaches the island.
Prince Guidon aims his spyglass:
The tsar stands on the deck
And gazes at them through the glass;
With him, the weaver, the cook,
With the matchmaker Babarikha;
They marvel at the unfamiliar land.
At once, the cannons fire;
The bells ring in the belfries;
Guidon himself goes to the sea;
There, he meets the tsar
With the cook and the weaver,
With the matchmaker Babarikha;
He leads the tsar to the city,
Saying nothing.

Now, all proceed to the chambers:
At the gates, armor gleams,
And before the tsar's eyes stand
Thirty-three knights,
All handsome and daring,
Young giants,
All equal, as if chosen,
With them, Uncle Chernomor.
The tsar steps into the wide courtyard:
There, under a tall spruce,
A squirrel sings a song,
Gnawing on a golden nut,
Extracting an emerald
And placing it in a pouch;
And the large courtyard is strewn
With golden shells.
The guests, further on—hastily
Look—what do they see? The princess—a wonder:
Under her braid, the moon shines,
And a star burns on her forehead:
And she herself is majestic,
Steps like a peacock,
And leads her mother-in-law.
The tsar looks—and recognizes...
His heart leaps with joy!
"What do I see? What is this?
How!"—and his breath catches...
The tsar is overcome with tears,
He embraces the tsarina,
And his son, and the young princess,
And they all sit at the table;
And a merry feast begins.
But the weaver, the cook,
With the matchmaker Babarikha,
Scatter to the corners;
They are barely found there.
Then they confessed everything,
Repented, and wept bitterly;
The tsar, in his joy,
Sent all three home.
The day passed—Tsar Saltan
Was put to bed half-drunk.
I was there; I drank mead and beer—
And only wetted my mustache.

More fairy tales

• The Tale of the Fisherman and the Fish
• The Tale of the Dead Princess and the Seven Knights
• The Tale of the Golden Cockerel
• The Tale of the Priest and His Worker Balda