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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341179" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Roussalka</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A LEGEND OF THE WATER-SPRITE</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In forest depths, beside a mere,<br>A monk once made his habitation ;<br>Absorbed in penances severe,<br>In fast and prayer he sought salvation.<br>Already by his own poor spade<br>His grave was hollowed to receive him,<br>And every day the good saint prayed<br>That Heaven from earth would soon relieve him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One summer's eve, the hermit poor, <br>At prayer within his narrow room, <br>Looked out beyond his humble door <br>And saw the forest wrapped in gloom ; <br>Night-mists were rising from the mere, <br>Between the clouds the moon 'gan peep; <br>The monk unto the pool drew near <br>And gazed into its waters deep. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He saw himself—drew back perturbed <br>By fears he ne'er had known before ; <br>For, lo, the waters were disturbed, <br>Then suddenly grew calm once more ; <br>'While fitful as a twilight shade, <br>Than virgin snow more purely white, <br>From out the pool appeared a maid <br>Approaching in the silver light. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She shook the bright drops from her hair<br>And gazed upon the anchorite ;<br>To look upon her form so fair<br>The good monk trembled with affright.<br>And he beheld her from afar<br>With head and hand strange signals make,<br>Then swifter than a shooting star<br>Dive back into the silent lake.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All night the hermit could not sleep, <br>All day in agony he prayed ; <br>But still he could not choose but keep <br>The image of that wondrous maid <br>Before him. So, when day did wane, <br>And overhead the moon was bright, <br>He watched, and saw her come again <br>In all her beauty, dazzling white. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She beckoned to him where he stood, <br>And gave him greeting glad and free. <br>She played and splashed about the flood, <br>She laughed and danced in childish glee, <br>As softly to the monk she cried : <br>' Come hither, monk, and join me here!' <br>Then suddenly she dipped to hide <br>Her beauty in the darkling mere. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The third day came—grown mad with love, <br>The hermit sought th' enchanted shore <br>Ere yet night's veil was drawn above, <br>And waited for the maid once more. <br>Dawn broke—the monk had disappeared . . . <br>And now the frightened children say <br>He haunts the pool: and lo! his beard <br>Floats on the water night and day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alexander+Sergeyevich+Pushkin">Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin</a><div class=q>
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In forest depths, beside a mere,
A monk once made his habitation ;
Absorbed in penances severe,
In fast and prayer he sought salvation.
Already by his own poor spade
His grave was hollowed to receive him,
And every da..."></div>
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