Рассказ про золотую рыбку на английском языке

By the very edge of the blue sea
lived an old man and his old woman.
For three and thirty years they had lived
in a tumbledown hut made of mud.
The old man caught fish in his fishing net;
the old woman span with her spinning wheel.
One day the old man cast his net
and all he caught in his net was slime.
The old man cast his net a second time
and all he caught in his net was weed.
A third time the old man cast his net
and what he found in his net was a fish —
no ordinary fish, but a golden fish.
The fish begged, the fish begged and implored;
the fish prayed in a human voice:
‘Release me, set me free in the sea —
and in return you’ll receive a grand ransom,
I’ll grant you whatever you wish.’
The old man was amazed and frightened.

Three and thirty years he had fished —
and not once had he heard a fish talk.
He returned the fish to the water,
saying gently as he let her go free,
‘God be with you, golden fish!
I don’t need your grand ransom.
Off you go — into the deep blue sea!
Swim free, swim where you wish!’

The old man went back to his old woman
and told her of this great wonder:
‘Today I caught a fish in my net —
no ordinary fish, but a golden fish.
The fish spoke, she spoke in our tongue;
she begged to go home, into the blue sea.
she promised me a splendid ransom;
she said she would grant whatever I wished.
But I didn’t dare take this ransom.
I set her free in the deep blue sea.’
The old woman scolded her old man:
‘Simple fool, fool of a simpleton!
What stopped you taking this ransom?
A mere fish — and you were too frightened!
You could at least have got a new washtub.
Ours is cracked right down the middle.’

Off he went towards the blue sea.
(The blue sea looked a little troubled.)
He called out to the golden fish
and the fish swam up and asked him,
‘What is it, old man, what do you want?’
The old man bowed to the fish and said,
‘Have mercy on me, Sovereign Fish.
My old woman is cursing and scolding me.
Though I am old, she gives me no peace.
She needs a new washtub, she says.
Ours is cracked right down the middle.’
The golden fish replied straightaway,
‘Take heart — and God be with you!
Outside your hut you’ll find a new washtub!’
The old man went back to his old woman.
His old woman now had a new washtub,
but she was cursing more fiercely than ever:
‘Simple fool, fool of a simpleton,
all you got from the fish was a washtub.
What wealth can be found in a washtub?
Get on back, you fool, to the fish.
Bow down to the fish and say
you want a handsome house built of wood.’

Off he went towards the blue sea.
(The blue sea was a little rough.)
He called out to the golden fish
and the fish swam up and asked him,
‘What is it, old man, what do you want?’
The old man bowed to the fish and said,
‘Have mercy on me, Sovereign Fish.
My old woman is cursing and raging.
Though I am old, she gives me no peace.
She wants a handsome house built of wood.’
The golden fish replied straightaway,
‘Take heart — and God be with you!
You shall have your house built of wood.’
The old man set off for his hut,
but not a trace of his hut could he find.
In its place stood a house built of wood
with a whitewashed brick chimney
and two strong gates hewn from oak.
Sitting by the window was his old woman,
swearing at him for all she was worth:
‘Simple fool, fool of a simpleton,
all you got from the fish was a house.
Get on back, you fool, to the fish.
I don’t want to be a lowly peasant.
I want to be a noble lady.’

Off he went towards the blue sea.
(The blue sea was not calm.)
He called out to the golden fish
and the fish swam up and asked him,
‘What is it, old man, what do you want?’
The old man bowed to the fish and said,
‘Have mercy on me, Sovereign Fish.
My old woman is shouting and swearing,
cursing me for all she is worth.
Though I am old, she gives me no peace.
She doesn’t want to be a lowly peasant.
She wants to be a noble lady.’
The golden fish replied straightaway,
‘Take heart — and God be with you!’

The old man went back to his old woman
and saw? He saw a tall mansion.
His old woman was standing there in the porch.
She was wearing a splendid ‘soul-warmer’ —
a precious waistcoat trimmed with sable.
On her head was a brocade head-dress;
round her neck hung heavy pearls
and gold rings encircled her fingers.
On her feet were fine red boots
and before her stood zealous servants;
she was slapping them and pulling their hair.
The old man said to his old woman,
‘Good day, Lady Countess Baroness!
I hope you’ve got all you want now!’
The old woman flew at her husband
and packed him off to work in the stables.

A week passed, and another week.
The old woman grew madder than ever.
She sent her old man back to the fish:
‘Go back to the fish, bow low and say
I don’t want to be a fine lady —
I want to be a mighty tsaritsa.’
The old man took fright. He implored her:
‘What’s got into you, woman? Are you crazy?
Have you been eating black henbane?
You don’t know how to walk like a tsaritsa,
You don’t know how to talk like a tsaritsa.
You’ll be the laughing stock of your tsardom.’
The old woman flew into a fury.
She struck her husband across the cheek:
‘How dare you, peasant, answer me back?
How dare you talk like that to a lady?
Back you go again to the sea — or, upon my word,
You’ll be dragged there against your will.’

Off he went towards the blue sea.
(The blue sea was blacker than black.)
He called out to the golden fish
and the fish swam up and asked him,
‘What is it, old man, what do you want?’
The old man bowed to the fish and said,
‘Have mercy on me, Sovereign Fish.
My old woman is raging again.
She doesn’t want to be a fine lady.
She wants to be a mighty tsaritsa.’
The golden fish replied straightaway,
‘Take heart — and God be with you!
Your old woman shall be a tsaritsa.’

The old man went back to his old woman.
Before him stands a splendid palace
and his old woman is there in the hall.
She is a tsaritsa sitting at table.
Nobles are standing and waiting on her,
pouring her wines from over the seas
while she nibbles on honeycakes.
All around stand fierce-looking guards
with sharp axes poised on their shoulders…
The old man was frightened. He bowed to the ground
and said, ‘Greetings, O dread Tsaritsa —
and I hope you’ve got all you want now!’
The old woman didn’t look at him;
she just ordered him out of her sight,
and her nobles and courtiers came running
and shoved the old man towards the door;
and the guards ran up with their axes
and all-but hacked him to pieces.
and everyone laughed at the old man:
‘Serves you right, you ignorant lout!
Let this be a lesson to you, bumpkin!
Don’t get too big for your boots
or sit in another man’s sleigh!’

A week passed, and another week.
The old woman grew madder than ever.
She sent her courtiers to fetch her husband.
They found him and brought him before her
and the old woman said to her old man,
‘Go back, bow down to the fish.
I don’t want to be a mighty tsaritsa,
I want to be a sea empress;
I want to live in the Ocean-Sea
with the golden fish as my servant
to bring me whatever I ask for.’

The old man did not dare say a word;
he was too frightened to open his mouth.
Off he went towards the blue sea.
Raging there was a black storm!
Waves were flinging up spray;
angry waves were crashing and howling.
He called out to the golden fish
and the fish swam up and asked him,
‘What is it, old man, what do you need?’
The old man bowed to the fish and said,
‘Have mercy on me, Sovereign Fish!
What am I to do with the wretched woman?
She no longer wants to be a tsaritsa,
she wants to be a sea empress.
She wants to live in the Ocean-Sea
with you as her faithful servant
to bring her whatever she asks for.’
Not a word did the fish reply.
She just slapped her tail on the water
and dived deep into the blue sea.
The old man waited and waited
But that was all the answer he got.
He went back — to a hut made of mud.
His old woman was sitting outside it;
And before her lay a broken washtub.

____
Translator’s note

Pushkin wrote ‘A Tale about a Fisherman and a Fish’ in October 1833, during the second of his ‘Boldino autumns’. Pushkin’s immediate source was the Brothers Grimm, but it would be hard to guess this. As well as being entirely Russian in manner, the tale also reflects Pushkin’s engagement with questions of Russian history. During this second ‘Boldino autumn’ Pushkin composed not only ‘The Bronze Horseman’, the greatest of his works devoted to the figure of Peter the Great, but also several works relating to Catherine the Great. As well as writing the whole of ‘The Queen of Spades’, which includes reminiscences of her reign, he completed the final draft of ‘A History of Pugachov’, a historical work about the terrible peasant and Cossack rebellion that Catherine managed to put down only with great difficulty. ‘A Tale about a Fisherman and a Fish’ also belongs — though less obviously — to this cycle of works about Catherine the Great.

As is so often the case, a hidden meaning is revealed by what appears at first to be no more than a careless slip. It seems odd that Pushkin’s old woman should see ruling over the sea as a higher destiny than that of being ‘a mighty tsaritsa’. Professor Olga Meerson, however, has pointed out to me that Catherine the Great was eager to rule over the Black Sea; between 1768 and 1792 she fought two wars against Turkey in order to achieve this. And Catherine, like Pushkin’s old woman, had usurped her husband’s place; she had deposed her husband Peter III in 1762, before these wars. In reality Catherine was generous to her favourite Prince Potyomkin and her subsequent lovers, but there is no doubt that Pushkin saw her as having treated her male favourites abusively — as the old woman does in his skazka. In The Captain’s Daughter (most of which was written two to three years later) Pushkin presents a positive picture of Catherine, but in his historical works he is more critical. In the ‘Notes on Eighteenth-Century History’, for example, he refers to her ‘serious mistakes in political economy’, to ‘the cruel reality of her despotism’ and to the ‘long list of her favourites, doomed to suffer the scorn of history’.

Translated by Robert Chandler

(Cardinal Points Journal)

Александр Пушкин
Сказка о рыбаке и рыбке

Жил старик со своею старухой
У самого синего моря;
Они жили в ветхой землянке
Ровно тридцать лет и три года.
Старик ловил неводом рыбу,
Старуха пряла свою пряжу.
Раз он в море закинул невод, —
Пришел невод с одною тиной.
Он в другой раз закинул невод,
Пришел невод с травой морскою.
В третий раз закинул он невод, —
Пришел невод с одною рыбкой,
С непростою рыбкой, — золотою.
Как взмолится золотая рыбка!
Голосом молвит человечьим:
«Отпусти ты, старче, меня в море,
Дорогой за себя дам откуп:
Откуплюсь чем только пожелаешь.»
Удивился старик, испугался:
Он рыбачил тридцать лет и три года
И не слыхивал, чтоб рыба говорила.
Отпустил он рыбку золотую
И сказал ей ласковое слово:
«Бог с тобою, золотая рыбка!
Твоего мне откупа не надо;
Ступай себе в синее море,
Гуляй там себе на просторе».

Воротился старик ко старухе,
Рассказал ей великое чудо.
«Я сегодня поймал было рыбку,
Золотую рыбку, не простую;
По-нашему говорила рыбка,
Домой в море синее просилась,
Дорогою ценою откупалась:
Откупалась чем только пожелаю.
Не посмел я взять с нее выкуп;
Так пустил ее в синее море».
Старика старуха забранила:
«Дурачина ты, простофиля!
Не умел ты взять выкупа с рыбки!
Хоть бы взял ты с нее корыто,
Наше-то совсем раскололось».

Вот пошел он к синему морю;
Видит, — море слегка разыгралось.
Стал он кликать золотую рыбку,
Приплыла к нему рыбка и спросила:
«Чего тебе надобно, старче?»
Ей с поклоном старик отвечает:
«Смилуйся, государыня рыбка,
Разбранила меня моя старуха,
Не дает старику мне покою:
Надобно ей новое корыто;
Наше-то совсем раскололось».
Отвечает золотая рыбка:
«Не печалься, ступай себе с богом,
Будет вам новое корыто».
Воротился старик ко старухе,
У старухи новое корыто.
Еще пуще старуха бранится:
«Дурачина ты, простофиля!
Выпросил, дурачина, корыто!
В корыте много ль корысти?
Воротись, дурачина, ты к рыбке;
Поклонись ей, выпроси уж избу».

Вот пошел он к синему морю,
Будет вам новое корыто».
Воротился старик ко старухе,
Стал он кликать золотую рыбку,
Приплыла к нему рыбка, спросила:
«Чего тебе надобно, старче?»
Ей старик с поклоном отвечает:
«Смилуйся, государыня рыбка!
Еще пуще старуха бранится,
Не дает старику мне покою:
Избу просит сварливая баба».
Отвечает золотая рыбка:
«Не печалься, ступай себе с богом,
Так и быть: изба вам уж будет».
Пошел он ко своей землянке,
А землянки нет уж и следа;
Перед ним изба со светелкой,
С кирпичною, беленою трубою,
С дубовыми, тесовыми вороты.
Старуха сидит под окошком,
На чем свет стоит мужа ругает.
«Дурачина ты, прямой простофиля!
Выпросил, простофиля, избу!
Воротись, поклонися рыбке:
Не хочу быть черной крестьянкой,
Хочу быть столбовою дворянкой».

Пошел старик к синему морю;
(Не спокойно синее море.)
Стал он кликать золотую рыбку.
Приплыла к нему рыбка, спросила:
«Чего тебе надобно, старче?»
Ей с поклоном старик отвечает:
«Смилуйся, государыня рыбка!
Пуще прежнего старуха вздурилась,
Не дает старику мне покою:
Уж не хочет быть она крестьянкой,
Хочет быть столбовою дворянкой».
Отвечает золотая рыбка:
«Не печалься, ступай себе с богом».

Воротился старик ко старухе.
Что ж он видит? Высокий терем.
На крыльце стоит его старуха
В дорогой собольей душегрейке,
Парчовая на маковке кичка,
Жемчуги огрузили шею,
На руках золотые перстни,
На ногах красные сапожки.
Перед нею усердные слуги;
Она бьет их, за чупрун таскает.
Говорит старик своей старухе:
«Здравствуй, барыня сударыня дворянка!
Чай, теперь твоя душенька довольна».
На него прикрикнула старуха,
На конюшне служить его послала.

Вот неделя, другая проходит,
Еще пуще старуха вздурилась:
Опять к рыбке старика посылает.
«Воротись, поклонися рыбке:
Не хочу быть столбовою дворянкой,
А хочу быть вольною царицей».
Испугался старик, взмолился:
«Что ты, баба, белены объелась?
Ни ступить, ни молвить не умеешь,
Насмешишь ты целое царство».
Осердилася пуще старуха,
По щеке ударила мужа.
«Как ты смеешь, мужик, спорить со мною,
Со мною, дворянкой столбовою? —
Ступай к морю, говорят тебе честью,
Не пойдешь, поведут поневоле».

Старичок отправился к морю,
(Почернело синее море.)
Стал он кликать золотую рыбку.
Приплыла к нему рыбка, спросила:
«Чего тебе надобно, старче?»
Ей с поклоном старик отвечает:
«Смилуйся, государыня рыбка!
Опять моя старуха бунтует:
Уж не хочет быть она дворянкой,
Хочет быть вольною царицей».
Отвечает золотая рыбка:
«Не печалься, ступай себе с богом!
Добро! будет старуха царицей!»

Старичок к старухе воротился.
Что ж? пред ним царские палаты.
В палатах видит свою старуху,
За столом сидит она царицей,
Служат ей бояре да дворяне,
Наливают ей заморские вины;
Заедает она пряником печатным;
Вкруг ее стоит грозная стража,
На плечах топорики держат.
Как увидел старик, — испугался!
В ноги он старухе поклонился,
Молвил: «Здравствуй, грозная царица!
Ну, теперь твоя душенька довольна».
На него старуха не взглянула,
Лишь с очей прогнать его велела.
Подбежали бояре и дворяне,
Старика взашеи затолкали.
А в дверях-то стража подбежала,
Топорами чуть не изрубила.
А народ-то над ним насмеялся:
«Поделом тебе, старый невежа!
Впредь тебе, невежа, наука:
Не садися не в свои сани!»

Вот неделя, другая проходит,
Еще пуще старуха вздурилась:
Царедворцев за мужем посылает,
Отыскали старика, привели к ней.
Говорит старику старуха:
«Воротись, поклонися рыбке.
Не хочу быть вольною царицей,
Хочу быть владычицей морскою,
Чтобы жить мне в Окияне-море,
Чтоб служила мне рыбка золотая
И была б у меня на посылках».

Старик не осмелился перечить,
Не дерзнул поперек слова молвить.
Вот идет он к синему морю,
Видит, на море черная буря:
Так и вздулись сердитые волны,
Так и ходят, так воем и воют.
Стал он кликать золотую рыбку.
Приплыла к нему рыбка, спросила:
«Чего тебе надобно, старче?»
Ей старик с поклоном отвечает:
«Смилуйся, государыня рыбка!
Что мне делать с проклятою бабой?
Уж не хочет быть она царицей,
Хочет быть владычицей морскою;
Чтобы жить ей в Окияне-море,
Чтобы ты сама ей служила
И была бы у ней на посылках».
Ничего не сказала рыбка,
Лишь хвостом по воде плеснула
И ушла в глубокое море.
Долго у моря ждал он ответа,
Не дождался, к старухе воротился —
Глядь: опять перед ним землянка;
На пороге сидит его старуха,
А пред нею разбитое корыто.

October 2(14), 1833

Once upon a time,
in a land far far away lived a very poor couple in a shack not far from the edge of the sea. Their only means of food was the fish that the old man caught in the sea. One morning, as was his
usual routine, the fisherman took his fishing net down to the sea. But on this day something unusual happened, on this day the fisherman caught the Golden Fish. The Golden Fish begged for the
fisherman to spare his life, and offered in return to grant the fisherman any wish he would like. But the kindhearted fisherman asked for nothing, and returned the Golden Fish to the sea.
However, the fisherman’s wife was not so kindhearted, she became irate when he related the story to her, and sent him back to the sea to catch the Golden Fish and to wish for a loaf of bread. The
fisherman did as he was told, he caught the fish and wished for a loaf of bread. When he returned home he found a fresh baked loaf of bread on the table.

The fisherman’s
wife then decided that she wanted more than just a loaf of bread. The next morning she sent her husband to ask for a new. He returned home to find his wife with a new washtub, but she still
wasn’t satisfied.

The following day
the husband was sent to the sea to find the magic fish and to wish for a new house. This wish was, like the ones before it, granted to the fisherman. But the fisherman was sent back again the
next day to wish that his wife would become governor. This time he returned home to find his wife dressed in riches and ordering about servants. But the woman was still unhappy, and demanded to
become Queen of all the land.

Eventually, even
being Queen of all the land did not satisfy the wife, and so she sent her husband once last time to the sea to catch the Golden Fish and to wish that she would be ruler of the sea and of all
creatures who live in it. The fisherman caught the fish, and made the wish. However, when he returned home his wife was dressed in her old rags, standing by her old broken washtub, inside the old
shack, with not even a loaf of bread to eat.

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