She outshines the midnight moon,
In her braids a crescent beams,
On her brow, a bright star gleams.
She herself is sweet of face.
Full of majesty and grace.
When she speaks, her voice doth seem
Like the music of a stream.
That's a wonder, now, for you–
Marvelously strange, but true."
Wisely, though, the guests prefer
Not to bandy words with her.
Tsar Saltan, he waxed most curious,
Our tsarevich waxed most furious,
But decided that he'd spare
Granny's eyes for her gray hair.
Buzzing like a bumble-bee,
Round his granny circled he,
Stung her nose with all his might,
Raising blisters red and white.
Panic once more filled the air:
"Murder! catch that insect there!
Help! O don't you let it go!
Catch it!–hold it!–kill it!–O!
O, you nasty insect, you!
Just you wait!"
Guidon, though, flew
Through the casement, o'erthe main Back to his domain again.
By the sea, the prince now paces,
On the blue sea now he gazes,
Suddenly, before Guidon
Swam the graceful snow-white swan.
"Greetings, my fair prince," said she
"Why are you so sad, tell me?
Why are you so dismal, say, Like a gloomy, cloudy day?"
"Grief is gnawing at my breast," Answered Prince Guidon, distressed
"Every youth has his own bride–
Only I unmarried bide."
"Who is she you wish to wed? Tell me, now."
Guidon then said: "There's a fair princess; they say
That she charms both young and old–
Brighter than the sun at noon,
She outshines the midnight moon;
In her braids, a crescent beams,
On her brow, a bright star gleams.
She herself is sweet of face,
Full of majesty and grace.
When she speaks, her sweet voice seems
Like the flow of tinkling streams.
Is this true, though, or a lie?"
Anxiously, he waits reply.