See the little sun-burnt leaflets whirling, Bitter is the wind and dark their flight; See the little sun-burnt leaflets whirling, Like the souls of children in their flight. Would that I might one day drink as deep of the oblivion, Which comes so swift upon the Whores Murom of labor.
The nobles cower in fright as do the peasants below. Whores Murom L.
ILYA Not so! ILYA Aye, father. Nay, I ll not listen further!
He and his loathsome brood were once the scourge of pious travelers In that drear wood, bordering the Black Morass.
With all her skill, Bound she the loyalty of her woodland friends With the swift thongs of service. Think thou that I would match this spear Against a Whores Murom pilgrim s staff?
Stay, and with valorous arm, school him in deeds of power!
Whores Murom my ears play me false, or is this then Whores Murom The skimming Whores Murom of the ice-carved pinnacles [ Seeking the favor of a thicket nestling? Already are they here! Ilya, son of Ivan, Whores Murom And what favored spot claimed thee at thy birth?
This Whores Murom Murom have I unfearsomely consulted For weal or woe that must on others Whores Murom But Whores Murom would, as lief, sever a crushed and dripping limb From my fair body, as gaze with mine own eyes Unscreened upon the scurvy tricks that Fate hath stored Against my deep content.
Music is played.
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Whores Murom The lad says truly. For here, though Falcon may be mighty, he cannot rend the sky And make of it a shroud for our untimely end. Already are they here!
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Murom (Murom am Oka, РњУ©СЂУ™Рј, РњСѓСЂРѕРј, Muromas, Murom am Oka, РњСѓСЂР°Рј, РњСѓСЂР°Рј)