mazeppa

• bir mazeppa vardir ki 1990'larda bartabas tarafindan yapilmis sirk atlarini anlatan bir filmdir.. bir mazeppa, or the wild horse of tartary daha vardir ki, o da 1910'da yine atlar uzerine cekilmis bir filmdir.. puslu hafizam hangisini izledigimi hatirlamama olanak vermiyor.. biraz daha ilerlersek liszt'in "mazeppa"sını goruruz.. muziklere, atlara ilham veren mazeppa'yi uzaktan uzaga suzer, kendisine farkettirmeden takip eder, bir gun bir yerde daha karsima cikmasini bekler dururum..
• 90'li yillarda yapilmis olan film, gene 90'li yillarin birindeki ankara film festivalinde oynamis, gormeye heveslenmeme ragmen bir arkadasimin "feci bayici, film boyunca zican atlardan baska bir sey gormuyorsun" sozleri uzerine gitmemistim. ama liszt'in mazeppa baslikli etudu muhtesemdir, victor hugo'nun, atlarin arkasina baglanip suruklenerek olmeye terk edilen mazeppa adli bahtsiz kahramani anlatan siirinden esinlenerek bestelenmistir. muzik son derece gorkemli ve tutkuludur, dort nala kosan atlari ve zavalli adamcagizin neler cektigini gozunuzun onune getirebilirsiniz. mazeppa denen zati muhterem daha sonra kazaklar tarafindan kurtarilir ve kral olur. eee, o kadar eziyetin bir odulu olmali tabi, di mi cevat abi? evet.
• franz liszt, piyano icin mazeppa etüdünü orkestra icin bir senfonik siire de dönüstürmüstür. polonyali beyefendi mazeppa'nin hikayesini ilk anlatanlardan biri voltaire'mis. onun "isvec krali 7.charles'in tarihi" yazisindan esinlenen lord byron "mazeppa" baslikli su siiri yazmis:
  
  i.
  
  "twas after dread pultowa's day,
  
  when fortune left the royal swede,
  
  around a slaughter'd army lay,
  
  no more to combat and to bleed
  
  the power and glory of the war,
  
  faithless as their vain votaries, men,
  
  had pass'd to the triumphant czar,
  
  and moscow's walls were safe again,
  
  until a day more dark and drear,
  
  and a more memorable year,
  
  should give to slaughter and to shame
  
  a mightier host and haughtier name;
  
  a greater wreck, a deeper fall,
  
  a shock to one - a thunderbolt to all.
  
  ii.
  
  such was the hazard of the die;
  
  the wounded charles was taught to fly
  
  by day and night through field and flood,
  
  stain'd with his own and subjects' blood;
  
  for thousands fell that flight to aid:
  
  and not a voice was heard t'upbraid
  
  ambition in his humbled hour,
  
  when truth had nought to dread from power.
  
  his horse was slain, and gieta gave
  
  his own - and died the russians' slave.
  
  this too sinks after many a league
  
  of well sustain'd but vain fatigue;
  
  and in the depth of forest, darkling
  
  the watch-fires in the distance sparkling -
  
  the beacons of surrounding foes -
  
  a king must lay his limbs at length.
  
  are these the laurels and repose
  
  for which the nations strain their strength?
  
  they laid him by a savage tree,
  
  in outworn nature's agony;
  
  his wounds were stiff, his limbs were stark;
  
  the heavy hour was chill and dark;
  
  the fever in his blood forbade
  
  a transient slumber's fitful aid:
  
  and thus it was; but yet through all,
  
  kinglike the monarch bore his fall,
  
  and made, in this extreme of ill,
  
  his pangs the vassals of his will:
  
  all silent and subdued were they,
  
  as once the nations round him lay.
  
  iii.
  
  a band of chiefs! - alas! how few,
  
  since but the fleeting of a day
  
  had thinn'd it; but this wreck was true
  
  and chivalrous: upon the clay
  
  each sate him down, all sad, and mute,
  
  beside his monarch and his steed;
  
  for danger levels man and brute,
  
  and all are fellows in their need.
  
  among the rest, mazeppa made
  
  his pillow in an old oak's shade --
  
  himself as rough, and scarce less old,
  
  the ukraine's hetman, calm and bold;
  
  but first, outspent with this long course,
  
  the cossack prince rubb'd down his horse,
  
  and made for him a leafy bed,
  
  and smooth'd his fetlocks and his mane,
  
  and slack'd his girth, and stripp'd his rein,
  
  and joy'd to see how well he fed;
  
  for until now he had the dread
  
  his wearied courser might refuse
  
  to browse beneath the midnight dews:
  
  but he was hardy as his lord,
  
  and little cared for bed and board;
  
  but spirited and docile too,
  
  whate'er was to be done, would do.
  
  shaggy and swift, and strong of limb,
  
  all tartar-like he carried him;
  
  obey'd his voice, and came to call,
  
  and knew him in the midst of all:
  
  though thousands were around, - and night,
  
  without a star, pursued her flight, -
  
  that steed from sunset until dawn
  
  his chief would follow like a fawn.
  
  iv.
  
  this done, mazeppa spread his cloak,
  
  and laid his lance beneath his oak,
  
  felt if his arms in order good
  
  the long day's march had well withstood -
  
  if still the powder fill'd the pan,
  
  and flints unloosen'd kept their lock -
  
  his sabre's hilt and scabbard felt,
  
  and whether they had chafed his belt;
  
  and next the venerable man,
  
  from out his havresack and can,
  
  prepared and spread his slender stock;
  
  and to the monarch and his men
  
  the whole or portion offer'd then
  
  with far less of inquietude
  
  than courtiers at a banquet would.
  
  and charles of this his slender share
  
  with smiles partook a moment there,
  
  to force of cheer a greater show,
  
  and seem above both wounds and woe;
  
  and then he said - "of all our band,
  
  though firm of heart and strong of hand,
  
  in skirmish, march, or forage, none
  
  can less have said or more have done
  
  than thee, mazeppa! on the earth
  
  so fit a pair had never birth,
  
  since alexander's day till now,
  
  as they bucephalus and thou:
  
  all seythia's fame to thine should yield
  
  for pricking on o'er flood and field."
  
  mazeppa answer'd - "ill betide
  
  the school wherein i learn'd to ride!"
  
  quoth charles - "old hetman, wherefore so,
  
  since thou hast learn'd the art so well?"
  
  mazeppa said - "t'were long to tell;
  
  and we have many a league to go,
  
  with every now and then a blow,
  
  and ten to one at least the foe,
  
  before our steeds may graze at ease
  
  beyond the swift borysthenes:
  
  and, sire, your limbs have need of rest,
  
  and i will be the sentinel
  
  of this your troop." - "but i request,"
  
  said sweden's monarch, "thou will tell
  
  this tale of thine, and i may reap,
  
  perchance, from this the boon of sleep;
  
  for at this moment from my eyes
  
  the hope of present slumber flies."
  
  "well, sire, with such a hope, i'll track
  
  my seventy years of memory back:
  
  i think 'twas in my twentieth spring -
  
  ay, 'twas, - when casimir was king -
  
  john casimir, - i was his page
  
  six summers, in my earlier age:
  
  a learned monarch, faith! was he,
  
  and most unlike your majesty:
  
  he made no wars, and did not gain
  
  new realms to lose them back again:
  
  and (save debates in warsaw's diet)
  
  he reign'd in most unseemly quiet;
  
  not that he had no cares to vex;
  
  he loved the muses and the sex;
  
  and sometimes these so froward are,
  
  they made him wish himself at war;
  
  but soon his wrath being o'er, he took
  
  another mistress, or new book;
  
  and then he gave prodigious fêtes -
  
  all warsaw gather'd round his gates
  
  to gaze upon his splendid court,
  
  and dames, and chiefs, of princely port:
  
  he was the polish solomon,
  
  so sung his poets, all but one,
  
  who, being unpension'd, made a satire,
  
  and boasted that he could not flatter.
  
  it was a court of jousts and mimes,
  
  where every courtier tried at rhymes;
  
  even i for once produced some verses,
  
  and sign'd my odes 'despairing thyrsis.'
  
  there was a certain palatine,
  
  a count of far and high descent,
  
  rich as a salt or silver mine;
  
  and he was proud, ye may divine,
  
  as if from heaven he had been sent:
  
  he had such wealth in blood and ore
  
  as few could match beneath the throne;
  
  and he would gaze upon his store,
  
  and o'er his pedigree would pore,
  
  until by some confusion led,
  
  which almost look'd like want of head,
  
  he thought their merits were his own.
  
  his wife was not of his opinion;
  
  his junior she by thirty years,
  
  grew daily tired of his dominion;
  
  and, after wishes, hopes, and fears,
  
  to virtue a few farewell tears,
  
  a restless dream or two, some glances
  
  at warsaw's youth, some songs, and dances,
  
  awaited but the usual chances,
  
  those happy accidents which render
  
  the coldest dames so very tender,
  
  to deck her count with titles given,
  
  'tis said, as passports into heaven;
  
  but, strange to say, they rarely boast
  
  of these, who have deserved them most.
  
  v.
  
  "i was a goodly stripling then;
  
  at seventy years i so may say,
  
  that there were few, or boys or men,
  
  who, in my dawning time of day,
  
  of vassal or of knight's degree,
  
  could vie in vanities with me;
  
  for i had strength, youth, gaiety,
  
  a port, not like to this ye see,
  
  but smooth, as all is rugged now;
  
  for time, and care, and war, have plough'd
  
  my very soul from out my brow;
  
  and thus i should be disavow'd
  
  by all my kind and kin, could they
  
  compare my day and yesterday;
  
  this change was wrought, too, long ere age
  
  had tak'en my features for his page;
  
  with years, ye know, have not declined
  
  my strength, my courage, or my mind,
  
  or at this hour i should not be
  
  telling old tales beneath a tree,
  
  with starless skies my canopy.
  
  but let me on: theresa's form -
  
  methinks it glides before me now,
  
  between me and yon chestnut's bough,
  
  the memory is so quick and warm;
  
  and yet i find no words to tell
  
  the shape of her i loved so well;
  
  she had the asiatic eye,
  
  such as our turkish neighbourhood
  
  hath mingled with our polish blood,
  
  dark as above us is the sky;
  
  but through it stole a tender light,
  
  like the first moonrise of midnight;
  
  large, dark, and swimming in the stream,
  
  which seem'd to melt to its own beam;
  
  all love, half languor, and half fire,
  
  like saints that at the stake expire,
  
  and lift their raptured looks on high,
  
  as though it were a joy to die.
  
  a brow like a midsummer lake,
  
  transparent with the sun therein,
  
  when waves no murmur dare to make,
  
  and heaven beholds her face within.
  
  a cheek and lip - but why proceed?
  
  i loved her then, i love her still;
  
  and such as i am, love indeed
  
  in fierce extremes - in good and ill.
  
  but still we love even in our rage,
  
  and haunted to our very age
  
  with the vain shadow of the past,
  
  as is mazeppa to the last.
  
  vi.
  
  "we met - we gazed - i saw, and sigh'd,
  
  she did not speak, and yet replied;
  
  there are ten thousand tones and signs
  
  we hear and see, but none defines -
  
  involuntary sparks of thought,
  
  which strike from out the heart o'er wrought,
  
  and form a strange intelligence,
  
  alike mysterious and intense,
  
  which link the burning chain that binds,
  
  without their will, young hearts and minds:
  
  conveying, as the electric wire,
  
  we know not how, the absorbing fire.
  
  i saw, and sigh'd - in silence wept,
  
  and still reluctant distance kept,
  
  until i was made known to her,
  
  and we might then and there confer
  
  without suspicion - then, even then,
  
  i long'd, and was resolved to speak;
  
  but on my lips they died again,
  
  the accents tremulous and weak,
  
  until one hour. - there is a game,
  
  a frivolous and foolish play,
  
  wherewith we while away the day;
  
  it is - i have forgot the name -
  
  and we to this, it seems, were set,
  
  by some strange chance, which i forget:
  
  i reck'd not if i won or lost,
  
  it was enough for me to be
  
  so near to hear, and oh! to see
  
  the being whom i loved the most.
  
  i watch'd her as a sentinel,
  
  (may ours this dark night watch as well!)
  
  until i saw, and thus it was,
  
  that she was pensive, nor perceived
  
  her occupation, nor was grieved
  
  nor glad to lose or gain; but still
  
  play'd on for hours, as if her will
  
  yet bound her to the place, though not
  
  that hers might be the winning lot.
  
  then through my brain the thought did pass
  
  even as a flash of lightning there,
  
  that there was something in her air
  
  which would not doom me to despair;
  
  and on the thought my words broke forth,
  
  all incoherent as they were;
  
  their eloquence was little worth,
  
  but yet she listen'd - 'tis enough -
  
  who listens once will listen twice;
  
  her heart, be sure, is not of ice,
  
  and one refusal no rebuff.
  
  vii.
  
  "i loved, and was beloved again -
  
  they tell me, sire, you never knew
  
  those gentle frailties; if 'tis true,
  
  i shorten all my joy or pain;
  
  to you 'twould seem absurd as vain;
  
  but all men are not born to reign,
  
  or o'er their passions, or as you
  
  thus o'er themselves and nations too.
  
  i am - or rather was a prince,
  
  a chief of thousands, and could lead
  
  them on where each would foremost bleed;
  
  but could not o'er myself evince
  
  the like control - but to resume:
  
  i loved, and was beloved again;
  
  in sooth, it is a happy doom,
  
  but yet where happiest ends in pain.
  
  we met in secret, and the hour
  
  which led me to that lady's bower
  
  was fiery expectation's dower.
  
  my days and nights were nothing - all
  
  except that hour, which doth recall,
  
  in the long lapse from youth to age,
  
  no other like itself: i'd give
  
  the ukraine back again to live
  
  it o'er once more, and be a page,
  
  the happy page, who was the lord
  
  of one soft heart, and his own sword,
  
  and had no other gem nor wealth
  
  save nature's gift of youth and health.
  
  we met in secret - doubly sweet,
  
  some say, they find it so to meet;
  
  i know not that - i would have given
  
  my life but to have call'd her mine
  
  in the full view of earth and heaven;
  
  for i did oft and long repine
  
  that we could only meet by stealth.
  
  viii.
  
  "for lovers there are many eyes,
  
  and such there were on us; the devil
  
  on such occasions should be civil -
  
  the devil! - i'm loth to do him wrong,
  
  it might be some untoward saint,
  
  who would not be at rest too long,
  
  but to his pious bile gave vent -
  
  but one fair night, some lurking spies
  
  surprised and seized us both.
  
  the count was something more than wroth -
  
  i was unarm'd; but if in steel,
  
  all cap-á-pie from head to heel,
  
  what 'gainst their numbers could i do?
  
  'twas near his castle, far away
  
  from city or from succour near,
  
  and almost on the break of day;
  
  i did not think to see another,
  
  my moments seem'd reduced to few;
  
  and with one prayer to mary mother,
  
  and, it may be, a saint or two,
  
  as i resign'd me to my fate,
  
  they led me to the castle gate:
  
  theresa's doom i never knew,
  
  our lot was henceforth separate.
  
  an angry man, ye may opine,
  
  was he, the proud count palatine;
  
  and he had reason good to be,
  
  but he was most enraged lest such
  
  an accident should chance to touch
  
  upon his future pedigree;
  
  nor less amazed, that such a blot
  
  his noble 'scutcheon should have got,
  
  while he has highest of his line;
  
  because unto himself he seem'd
  
  the first of men, nor less he deem'd
  
  in others' eyes, and most in mine,
  
  'sdeath! with a page - perchance a king
  
  had reconciled him to the thing;
  
  but with a stripling of a page -
  
  i felt, but cannot paint his rage.
  
  ix.
  
  "bring forth the horse!" - the horse was brought;
  
  in truth, he was a noble steed,
  
  a tartar of the ukraine breed,
  
  who look'd as though the speed of thought
  
  were in his limbs; but he was wild,
  
  wild as the wild deer, and untaught,
  
  with spur and bridle undefiled -
  
  'twas but a day he had been caught;
  
  and snorting, with erected mane,
  
  and struggling fiercely, but in vain,
  
  in the full foam of wrath and dread
  
  to me the desert-born was led:
  
  they bound me on, that menial throng;
  
  upon his back with many a thong;
  
  then loosed him with a sudden lash -
  
  away! - away! - and on we dash!
  
  torrents less rapid and less rash.
  
  x
  
  "away! - away! my breath was gone,
  
  i saw not where he hurried on;
  
  "twas scarcely yet the break of day,
  
  and on he foam'd - away! - away!
  
  the last of human sounds which rose,
  
  as i was darted from my foes,
  
  was the wild shout of savage laughter,
  
  which on the wind came roaring after
  
  a moment from that rabble rout:
  
  with sudden wrath i wrench'd my head,
  
  and snapp'd the cord, which to the mane
  
  had bound my neck in lieu of rein,
  
  and, writhing half my form about,
  
  howl'd back my curse; but 'midst the tread,
  
  the thunder of my courser's speed,
  
  perchance they did not hear nor heed:
  
  it vexes me - for i would fain
  
  have paid their insult back again.
  
  i paid it well in after days:
  
  there is not of that castle gate,
  
  its drawbridge and portcullis' weight,
  
  stone, bar, moat, bridge, or barrier left;
  
  nor of its fields a blade of grass,
  
  save what grows on a ridge of wall,
  
  where stood the hearth-stone of the hall;
  
  and many a time ye there might pass,
  
  nor dream that e'er that fortress was.
  
  i saw its turrets in a blaze,
  
  their crackling battlements all cleft,
  
  and the hot lead pour down like rain
  
  from off the scorch'd and blackening roof,
  
  whose thickness was not vengeance-proof.
  
  they little thought that day of pain,
  
  when launch'd, as on the lightning's flash,
  
  they bade me to destruction dash,
  
  that one day i should come again,
  
  with twice five thousand horse, to thank
  
  the count for his uncourteous ride.
  
  they play'd me then a bitter prank,
  
  when, with the wild horse for my guide,
  
  they bound me to his foaming flank:
  
  at length i play'd them one as frank
  
  for time at last sets all things even -
  
  and if we do but watch the hour,
  
  there never yet was human power
  
  which could evade, if unforgiven,
  
  the patient search and vigil long
  
  of him who treasures up a wrong.
  
  xi.
  
  "away, away, my steed and i,
  
  upon the pinions of the wind,
  
  all human dwellings left behind;
  
  we sped like meteors through the sky,
  
  when with its crackling sound the night
  
  is checquer'd with the northern light:
  
  town - village - none were on our track,
  
  but a wild plain of far extent,
  
  and bounded by a forest black;
  
  and save the scarce seen battlement
  
  on distant heights of some strong hold,
  
  against the tartars built of old,
  
  no trace of man. the year before
  
  a turkish army had march'd o'er;
  
  and where the spahi's hoof hath trod,
  
  the verdure flies the bloody sod:
  
  the sky was dull, and dim, and gray,
  
  and a low breeze crept moaning by -
  
  i could have answer'd with a sigh -
  
  but fast we fled, away, away,
  
  and i could neither sigh nor pray;
  
  and my cold sweat-drops fell like rain
  
  upon the courser's bristling mane;
  
  but, snorting still with rage and fear,
  
  he flew upon his far career:
  
  at times i almost thought, indeed,
  
  he must have slacken'd in his speed;
  
  but no - my bound and slender frame
  
  was nothing to his angry might,
  
  and merely like a spur became:
  
  each motion which i made to free
  
  my swoln limbs from their agony
  
  increased his fury and affright:
  
  i tried my voice, - 'twas faint and low,
  
  but yet he swerved, as from a blow;
  
  and, starting to each accent, sprang
  
  as from a sudden trumpet's clang:
  
  meantime my cords were wet with gore,
  
  which, oozing through my limbs, ran o'er;
  
  and in my tongue the thirst became
  
  a something fierier far than flame.
  
  xii.
  
  "we near'd the wild wood - 'twas so wide,
  
  i saw no bounds on either side;
  
  twas studded with old sturdy trees,
  
  that bent not to the roughest breeze
  
  which howls down from siberia's waste,
  
  and strips the forest in its haste, -
  
  but these were few and far between,
  
  set thick with shrubs more young and green,
  
  luxuriant with their annual leaves,
  
  ere strown by those autumnal eves
  
  that nip the forest's foliage dead,
  
  discolour'd with a lifeless red,
  
  which stands thereon like stiffen'd gore
  
  upon the slain when battle's o'er,
  
  and some long winter's night hath shed
  
  its frost o'er every tombless head,
  
  so cold and stark the raven's beak
  
  may peck unpierced each frozen cheek:
  
  "twas a wild waste of underwood,
  
  and here and there a chestnut stood,
  
  the strong oak, and the hardy pine;
  
  but far apart - and well it were,
  
  or else a different lot were mine -
  
  the boughs gave way, and did not tear
  
  my limbs; and i found strength to bear
  
  my wounds, already scarr'd with cold;
  
  my bonds forbade to loose my hold.
  
  we rustled through the leaves like wind,
  
  left shrubs, and trees, and wolves behind;
  
  by night i heard them on the track,
  
  their troop came hard upon our back,
  
  with their long gallop, which can tire
  
  the hound's deep hate, and hunter's fire:
  
  where'er we flew they follow'd on,
  
  nor left us with the morning sun;
  
  behind i saw them, scarce a rood,
  
  at day-break winding through the wood,
  
  and through the night had heard their feet
  
  their stealing, rustling step repeat.
  
  oh! how i wish'd for spear or sword,
  
  at least to die amidst the horde,
  
  and perish - if it must be so -
  
  at bay, destroying many a foe!
  
  when first my courser's race begun,
  
  i wish'd the goal already won;
  
  but now i doubted strength and speed.
  
  vain doubt! his swift and savage breed
  
  had nerved him like the mountain-roe;
  
  nor faster falls the blinding snow
  
  which whelms the peasant near the door
  
  whose threshold he shall cross no more,
  
  bewilder'd with the dazzling blast,
  
  than through the forest-paths he pass'd -
  
  untired, untamed, and worse than wild;
  
  all furious as a favour'd child
  
  balk'd of its wish; or fiercer still -
  
  a woman piqued - who has her will.
  
  xiii.
  
  "the wood was past; 'twas more than noon,
  
  but chill the air, although in june;
  
  or it might be my veins ran cold -
  
  prolong'd endurance tames the bold;
  
  and i was then not what i seem,
  
  but headlong as a wintry stream,
  
  and wore my feelings out before
  
  i well could count their causes o'er"
  
  and what with fury, fear, and wrath,
  
  the tortures which beset my path,
  
  cold, hunger, sorrow, shame, distress,
  
  thus bound in nature's nakedness;
  
  sprung from a race whose rising blood,
  
  when stirr'd beyond its calmer mood,
  
  and trodden hard upon, is like
  
  the rattle-snake's, in act to strike,
  
  what marvel if this worn-out trunk
  
  beneath its woes a moment sunk?
  
  the earth gave way, the skies roll'd round,
  
  i seem to sink upon the ground;
  
  but err'd, for i was fastly bound.
  
  my heart turn'd sick, my brain grew sore,
  
  and throbb'd awhile then beat no more:
  
  the skies spun like a mighty wheel;
  
  i saw the trees like drunkards reel,
  
  and a slight flash sprang o'er my eyes,
  
  which saw no farther: he who dies
  
  can die no more than then i died.
  
  o'ertortured by that ghastly ride,
  
  i felt the blackness come and go,
  
  and strove to wake; but would not make
  
  my senses climb up from below;
  
  i felt as on a plank at sea,
  
  when all the waves that dash o'er thee,
  
  at the same time upheave and whelm,
  
  and hurl thee towards a desert realm.
  
  my undulating life was as
  
  the fancied lights that flitting pass
  
  our shut eyes in deep midnight, when
  
  fever begins upon the brain;
  
  but soon it pass'd, with little pain,
  
  but a confusion worse than such:
  
  i own that i should deem it much,
  
  dying, to feel the same again;
  
  and yet i do suppose we must
  
  feel far more ere we turn to dust:
  
  no matter; i have bared my brow
  
  full in death's face - before - and now.
  
  xiv.
  
  "my thoughts came back; where was i? cold,
  
  and numb, and giddy: pulse by pulse
  
  life reassumed its lingering hold,
  
  and throb by throb, - till grown a pang
  
  which for a moment would convulse,
  
  my blood reflow'd, though thick and chill;
  
  my ear with uncouth noises rang,
  
  my heart began once more to thrill;
  
  my sight return'd though dim; alas!
  
  and thicken'd, as it were, with glass.
  
  me thought the dash of waves was nigh;
  
  there was a gleam too of the sky,
  
  studded with stars; - it is no dream;
  
  the wild horse swims the wilder stream:
  
  the bright broad river's gushing tide
  
  sweeps, winding onward, far and wide,
  
  and we are half-way, struggling o'er
  
  to yon unknown and silent shore.
  
  the waters broke my hollow trance,
  
  and with a temporary strength
  
  my stiffen'd limbs were rebaptized.
  
  my courser's broad breast proudly braves,
  
  and dashes off the ascending waves,
  
  and onward we advance!
  
  we reach the slippery shore at length,
  
  a haven i but little prized,
  
  for all behind was dark and drear,
  
  and all before was night and fear.
  
  how many hours of night or day
  
  in those suspended pangs i lay,
  
  i could not tell; i scarcely knew
  
  if this were human breath i drew.
  
  xv.
  
  "with glossy skin, and dripping mane,
  
  and reeling limbs, and reeking flank,
  
  the wild steed's sinewy nerves still strain
  
  up the repelling bank.
  
  we gain the top: a boundless plain
  
  spreads through the shadow of the night;
  
  and onward, onward, onward, seems,
  
  like precipices in our dreams,
  
  to stretch beyond the sight;
  
  and here and there a speck of white,
  
  or scatter'd spot of dusky green,
  
  in masses broke into the light,
  
  as rose the moon upon my right:
  
  but nought distinctly seen
  
  in the dim waste would indicate
  
  the omen of a cottage gate;
  
  no twinkling taper from afar
  
  stood like a hospitable star;
  
  not even an ignis-fatuus rose
  
  to make him merry with my woes;
  
  that very cheat had cheer'd me then!
  
  although detected, welcome still,
  
  reminding me, through every ill,
  
  of the abodes of men.
  
  xvi.
  
  "onward we went - but slack and slow;
  
  his savage force at length o'erspent,
  
  the drooping courser, faint and low,
  
  all feebly foaming went.
  
  a sickly infant had had power
  
  to guide him forward in that hour
  
  but useless all to me:
  
  his new-born tameness nought avail'd -
  
  my limbs were bound; my force had fail'd,
  
  perchance, had they been free.
  
  with feeble effort still i tried
  
  to rend the bonds so starkly tied,
  
  but still it was in vain;
  
  my limbs were only wrung the more,
  
  and soon the idle strife gave o'er,
  
  which but prolong'd their pain:
  
  the dizzy race seem'd almost done,
  
  although no goal was nearly won:
  
  some streaks announced the coming sun -
  
  how slow, alas! he came!
  
  methought that mist of dawning gray
  
  would never dapple into day;
  
  how heavily it roll'd away -
  
  before the eastern flame
  
  rose crimson, and deposed the stars,
  
  and call'd the radiance from their cars,
  
  and fill'd the earth, from his deep throne,
  
  with lonely lustre, all his own.
  
  xvii.
  
  "up rose the sun; the mists were curl'd
  
  back from the solitary world
  
  which lay around, behind, before.
  
  what booted it to traverse o'er
  
  plain, forest, river? man nor brute,
  
  nor dint of hoof, nor print of foot,
  
  lay in the wild luxuriant soil;
  
  no sign of travel, none of toil;
  
  the very air was mute;
  
  and not an insect's shrill small horn,
  
  nor matin bird's new voice was borne
  
  from herb nor thicket. many a werst,
  
  panting as if his heart would burst,
  
  the weary brute still stagger'd on;
  
  and still we were - or seem'd - alone.
  
  at length, while reeling on our way,
  
  methought i heard a courser neigh,
  
  from out yon tuft of blackening firs.
  
  is it the wind those branches stirs?
  
  no, no! from out the forest prance
  
  a trampling troop; i see them come!
  
  in one vast squadron they advance!
  
  i strove to cry - my lips were dumb.
  
  the steeds rush on in plunging pride:
  
  but where are they the reins to guide?
  
  a thousand horse, and none to ride!
  
  with flowing tail, and flying mane,
  
  wide nostrils never stretch'd by pain,
  
  mouths bloodless to the bit or rein,
  
  and feet that iron never shod,
  
  and flanks unscarr'd by spur or rod,
  
  a thousand horse, the wild, the free,
  
  like waves that follow o'er the sea,
  
  came thickly thundering on,
  
  as if our faint approach to meet;
  
  the sight re-nerved my courser's feet,
  
  a moment staggering, feebly fleet,
  
  a moment, with a faint low neigh,
  
  he answer'd, and then fell;
  
  with gasps and glazing eyes he lay,
  
  and reeking limbs immovable,
  
  his first and last career is done!
  
  on came the troop - they saw him stoop,
  
  they saw me strangely bound along
  
  his back with many a bloody thong:
  
  they stop, they start, they snuff the air,
  
  gallop a moment here and there,
  
  approach, retire, wheel round and round,
  
  then plunging back with sudden bound,
  
  headed by one black mighty steed,
  
  who seem'd the patriarch of his breed,
  
  without a single speck or hair
  
  of white upon his shaggy hide;
  
  they snort, they foam, neigh, swerve aside,
  
  and backward to the forest fly,
  
  by instinct, from a human eye.
  
  they left me there to my despair,
  
  link'd to the dead and stiffening wretch,
  
  whose lifeless limbs beneath me stretch,
  
  relieved from that unwonted weight,
  
  from whence i could not extricate
  
  nor him nor me - and there we lay,
  
  the dying on the dead!
  
  i little deem'd another day
  
  would see my houseless, helpless head.
  
  "and there from morn to twilight bound,
  
  i felt the heavy hours toll round,
  
  with just enough of life to see
  
  my last of suns go down on me,
  
  in hopeless certainty of mind,
  
  that makes us feel at length resign'd
  
  to that which our foreboding years
  
  present the worst and last of fears:
  
  inevitable - even a boon,
  
  nor more unkind for coming soon,
  
  yet shunn'd and dreaded with such care,
  
  as if it only were a snare
  
  that prudence might escape:
  
  at times both wish'd for and implored,
  
  at times sought with self-pointed sword,
  
  yet still a dark and hideous close
  
  to even intolerable woes,
  
  and welcome in no shape.
  
  and, strange to say, the sons of pleasure,
  
  they who have revell'd beyond measure
  
  in beauty, wassail, wine, and treasure,
  
  die calm, or calmer, oft than he
  
  whose heritage was misery:
  
  for he who hath in turn run through
  
  all that was beautiful and new,
  
  hath nought to hope, and nought to leave;
  
  and, save the future, (which is view'd
  
  not quite as men are base or good.
  
  but as their nerves may be endued,)
  
  with nought perhaps to grieve:
  
  the wretch still hopes his woes must end,
  
  and death, whom he should deem his friend,
  
  appears, to his distemper'd eyes,
  
  arrived to rob him of his prize,
  
  the tree of his new paradise.
  
  to-morrow would have given him all,
  
  repaid his pangs, repair'd his fall;
  
  to-morrow would have been the first
  
  of days no more deplored or curst,
  
  but bright, and long, and beckoning years,
  
  seen dazzling through the mist of tears,
  
  guerdon of many a painful hour;
  
  to-morrow would have given him power
  
  to rule, to shine, to smite, to save -
  
  and must it dawn upon his grave?
  
  xviii.
  
  "the sun was sinking - still i lay
  
  chain'd to the chill and stiffening steed;
  
  i thought to mingle there our clay,
  
  and my dim eyes of death had need;
  
  no hope arose of being freed:
  
  i cast my last looks up the sky,
  
  and there between me and the sun
  
  i saw the expecting raven fly,
  
  who scarce would wait till both should die,
  
  ere his repast begun;
  
  he flew, and perch'd then flew once more,
  
  and each time nearer than before;
  
  i saw his wing through twilight flit,
  
  and once so near me he alit
  
  i could have smote, but lack'd the strength;
  
  but the slight motion of my hand,
  
  and feeble scratching of the sand,
  
  the exerted throat's faint struggling noise,
  
  which scarcely could be called a voice,
  
  together scared him off at length.
  
  i know no more - my latest dream
  
  is something of a lovely star
  
  which fix'd my dull eyes from afar,
  
  and went and came with wandering beam,
  
  and of the cold dull, swimming, dense
  
  sensation of recurring sense,
  
  and then subsiding back to death,
  
  and then again a little breath,
  
  a little thrill, a short suspense,
  
  an icy sickness curdling o'er
  
  my heart, and sparks that cross'd my brain -
  
  a gasp, a throb, a start of pain,
  
  a sigh, and nothing more.
  
  xix.
  
  "i woke - where was i? do i see
  
  a human face look down on me?
  
  and doth a roof above me close?
  
  do these limbs on a couch repose?
  
  is this a chamber where i lie?
  
  and is it mortal yon bright eye,
  
  that watches me with gentle glance?
  
  i closed my own again once more,
  
  as doubtful that my former trance
  
  could not as yet be o'er.
  
  a slender girl, long-hair'd, and tall,
  
  sate watching by the cottage wall;
  
  the sparkle of her eye i caught,
  
  even with my first return of thought;
  
  for ever and anon she threw
  
  a prying, pitying glance on me
  
  with her black eyes so wild and free:
  
  i gazed, and gazed, until i knew
  
  no vision it could be, -
  
  but that i lived, and was released
  
  from adding to the vulture's feast:
  
  and when the cossack maid beheld
  
  my heavy eyes at length unseal'd,
  
  she smiled - and i essay'd to speak,
  
  but fail'd - and she approach'd, and made
  
  with lip and finger signs that said,
  
  i must not strive as yet to break
  
  the silence, till my strength should be
  
  enough to leave my accents free;
  
  and then her hand on mine she laid,
  
  and smooth'd the pillow for my head,
  
  and stole along on tiptoe tread,
  
  and gently oped the door and spake
  
  in whispers - ne'er was voice so sweet!
  
  even music follow'd her light feet:
  
  but those she call'd were not awake,
  
  and she went forth; but, ere she pass'd,
  
  another look on me she cast,
  
  another sign she made, to say,
  
  that i had nought to fear, that all
  
  were near, at my command or call,
  
  and she would not delay
  
  her due return: - while she was gone,
  
  methought i felt too much alone.
  
  xx.
  
  "she came with mother and with sire -
  
  what need of more? - i will not tire
  
  with long recital of the rest,
  
  since i became the cossack's guest.
  
  they found me senseless on the plain,
  
  they bore me to the nearest hut,
  
  they brought me into life again -
  
  me - one day o'er their ream to reign!
  
  thus the vain fool who strove to glut
  
  his rage, refining on my pain,
  
  sent me forth to the wilderness,
  
  bound, naked, bleeding, and alone,
  
  to pass the desert to a throne, -
  
  what mortal his own doom may guess?
  
  let none despond, let none despair!
  
  to-morrow the borysthenes
  
  may see our coursers graze at ease
  
  upon his turkish bank, and never
  
  had i such welcome for a river
  
  as i shall yield when safely there.
  
  comrades, good night! - the hetman threw
  
  his length beneath the oak-tree shade,
  
  with leafy couch already made,
  
  a bed nor comfortless nor new
  
  to him, who took his rest whene'er
  
  the hour arrived, no matter where:
  
  his eyes the hastening slumbers steep.
  
  and if ye marvel charles forgot
  
  to thank his tale, he wonder'd not, -
  
  the king had been an hour asleep.
• bartabas'nin yazdigi, yönettigi ve hatta oynadigi, 19. yüzyil'da yasamis, atlarla kafayi bozmus, çok romantik fransiz ressam theodore gericault'nun hayatini anlatan film. 1993 yilinda, cannes'da "commission superieure technique" dalinda^* büyük ödül almistir. filmden çok, bir tür sergidir. nitekim, film içinde gericault amca'nin bir sürü tablosunu görmek mümkündür.
• http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xtpwihpddi
• adamın burnundan ter damlatan eser (#9550984). bunu yazana ne demeli?
• izledim. haralarda geçmiyordu.
• zingaro isimli atlı sirk gösterisinin organizatörü bartabas'ın üç filminden biri.
• liszt'in mazeppa'sındaki dört nala koşan bir atı simgeleyen hızlı, ıslık gibi üçlemeler aslında tavada kızaran etlere benziyor.
• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufyxajjogqm
  (bkz: lazar berman)