Член Союза славянских журналистов Юлия Лебедева, поэма на английском языке «Человек и Мангуст». Это – единственная в России поэма, написанная на иностранном языке на народную тематику.

Yulia Lebedeva
Part I

Once upon...
I don't know
There lived a young and handsome man
In the centre of Hindustan.

The Man was noble and courageous
And his sword was clean and sharp,
But when warned of hidden dangers,
He would carelessly laugh.

Beasts of prey and other monsters
Can be won in open fight,
But there are reptiles and spoilers
That prefer night gloom to light.

There are snakes, whose skin in shining
(Nothing else in them can shine)...
But has not each skin a lining?
Can't one do an ill and smile?..

When the sun is elucidating
Every track and every path,
Lo! They hide themselves in grass
And keep patiently waiting
For a careless man to pass.

Aiming sure #nd never missing,
He, unarmed, was often wrong,
Taking their most crafty hissing
For a vague, celestial song,

And the venom of their speeches
For some medicine or balm...
That is why his peerless features
Were just marble-like and calm.

Part II

...Once a friend of his had found
A mongoose-cub in the wood,
And had brought it to his house.
Well, the Man was so good,

As to let it stay together
With his young domestic ones.
So, in stormy, rainy weather,
When the fiery lightnings dance,

The poor thing was safe and sound
And admired, day and night,
The new home that it had found,
Watched its Master with delight.

Well, time flew, as fast as always –
Soon the helpless orphan-cub,
Full of gratitude-like warmness,
Loved his Master, as Ma-Bap*

The Man being absentminded,
Seemed the Mongoose to forget...
Its dear Master's looks were sliding,
Just like sun-rays at sunset.

*Ma-Bap - Mother and Father (In Hindi).

Part III

there came,
all of a sudden,
An enormous,
dreadful change!..
It was unexpected rather,
Than unjust
and hard,
and strange...

On that day
there was no thunder,
And no lightnings,
and no rain,
And no war with cruel plunder,
to everybody's wonder,
The Young Mongoose
was sent away!..

-1 have dogs - to watch the house,
I have cats - to catch the mice.
Can you give me milk, as cows?
You can't even fan off flies!..

The Peacock gives me ample pleasure
By his fan-rainbowed tail-
Gold and purpur, perle and asure...
What of you - so small and grey,
Hiding somewhere the whole day?
In all contests you shall fail!..
So, there, go away!..

Me-but needn't you!..
And so, -
Said the Master, unimpressed, -
In the jungle
you must go
It will be
all for the best!..
And the Master locked the gate
At that gloomy hour and late.

Part IV

...Oh, the Man was unaware:
The Mongoose was strong enough,
And the only one
who dare
To attack the serpent's stuff.

Alas! The Master did not know
That at every turn
a foe
Was awaiting him -
to bite
At a late and gloomy night.

Could he learn,
being so busy
With his studies
at day time,
That in nights
some threatening hissing
some dreadful crime?

Being tired of his duties,
He went thoughtfully to bed...
Would he see the next dawn'a beauties,
If it were not for his friend?..

When the sounds of birds' chores
Were awakening dozing woods,
The Mongoose hid in the corners,
Licked its fresh and bleeding wounds.

Part V

The Jungle is a home for those
Who have no certain strife,
Who would never fight the foes
Of their friends
and risk their life.

The Mongoose thought of the garden
Of its dear human friend:
Would he punish it, or pardon –
It shall stay there
to the end!

...The poor thing was wandering, tired,
Homeless, hungry, uncaressed,
When a passer-by, - Retired –
Took and pressed it to his breast.

The Mongoose was almost dying,
Its strength melting, like the ice...
The new master called it "darling",
Made its life a paradise.

The Mongoose, moved by his care,
Tried to make up a new plan –
To fight everyone who dare
Threaten liberal old man.

to say the truth,
There was
her love.
The young creature,
while apart,
Felt -
she had a flaming heart!..

Part VI

Well, one day, all of a sudden,
She heard hissing of the snakes,
Who were bound for the garden,
She had spent in
loveliest days.

All at once she jumped, unspringing,
And attacked the wild reptiles.
...After short, but racking thinking
She did leave the "paradise".

She considered it her duty –
To defend her dear old friend –
His life, honour, heart and beauty –
At any price
and to the end.

She will walk, unseen, about,
Hiding somewhere at daytime,
Wait for her Love
to come out
And to thoughtfully pass by.

She'll be waiting, as for wonder,
For his looks, enjoy his forms,
She'll follow him, as thunder
Follows lightning during storms...

She'll keep away all dangers –
Be it at the cost of life,
Feeling jealous to all strangers –
Be it a man or a butterfly.

When the last snake disappears,
The Mongoose,
up to her death,
Shall stay there -
to drop her tears
On her Master's fresh footsteps...

Part VII

approaching his old house,
She heard: everything was still...
No moving, no sounds –
Dear Master being ill!..

Oh, she was late, somehow:
The Man, bit by a reptile,
Was in cruel Death's power,
Tying up her dreadful tie...
The Mongoose
crawled to the bedroom,
Where her dear Master lay –
So fair,
so helpless,
and pale.

Having heard the small thing enter,
The Man opened his blue eyes:
For the first time
they looked tender,
Though sad as evening skies.

- I was wrong,
oh, selfless creature,
Having sent you far away!..
...And his handsome, noble features
Turned to marble-lifeless pale.

The mirage of hopes
was melting,
Life grew bare,
as white screen...
Relatives and neighbours entering,
The Mongoose left, quite unseen.

.She did not remember,

She had passed
by the sleeping dog,
The indifferent calm cow
And the selfpossesed peacock.

She looked up -
In the luxuriant park
Nature looked undecorated...

And the Time's eternal flight
as if a throttled cry...
Why to live?..
For whom to fight?..
There was nothing,
but to die...

The Mongoose
fell on the ground,
In, despair,
gave a cry...

...When the downy thing was found,
It was buried

Yulia Lebedeva, author of 260 of published works and several dozen of books prepared for publishing. Russia, 117321, Moscow, Ostrovityanova street, 26, block 2, flat 240. Phone;-8(495)338-97-90.