Here you will find the Long Poem The Dispute of poet Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
Once 'mid group of native mountains Hot dispute arose, Elbrus, angry, did with Kasbek Argument propose. 'Now beware!' the hoary Elbrus, Warning did exclaim-- 'To enslave thee and enthrall thee Is man's evil aim! Smoking huts he will be building On thy mountain side, Loudly through thy clefts resounding Ring his hatchet wide! The swift swinging iron shovel Breast of stone will part, Of thy bronze and stone will rob thee-- Pierce thee to the heart. Caravans, e'en now, are passing Through thy rocks afar, Where before the fogs were swimming-- And the Eagle Tsar. Ah, mankind is bold and fearless! Dreads no lifted hand, Guard thee! populous and mighty Is the morning land!' 'Threatens me the East?' then queried Kasbek with disdain, 'There eight centuries already Sleeping, man has lain. See, in shadow the Grusine Gloats in lustful greed, On his many coloured raiment Glints the winey bead! Drugged with fumes of his nargileh, Dreams the Mussulman-- By the fountains on his divan Slumbers Teheran. See! Jerusalem is lying At his feet o'erthrown-- Deathly dumb and lifeless staring As an earthly tomb. And beyond the Nile is washing O'er the burning steps Of the Kingly mausoleums, Yellow, shadowless. In his tent, the hunt forgotten-- Now the Bedouin lies, Sings the old ancestral legends, Scans the starry skies. See! far as the eye can venture, All sleeps as before-- No, the threat of dreaming Orient Frights me nevermore!' 'Laugh thou not too early, Kasbek,' Elbrus did persist-- 'Look! What vast mass is it turning Northward, through the mist?' Secretly the heart of Kasbek Faltered,--as amazed, Silent and with dark foreboding To the North he gazed: Full of woe stared in the distance; What a thronging swarm! Hark! there rings the clash of weapons! Battle-cry alarm! From the Don unto the Ural What a human sea! Regiments that wave and glitter Past all counting be! Feathers white like sedge of ocean, Waving in a gust-- Many coloured Uhlans storming Through the blowing dust. The imperial battalions Densely packed proceed, Trumpets flaring, banners flying In the victor's lead. Batteries with brasses rattling Conquering advance, With their blood-red splendor flashing Cannon matches glance. And a battle-proved commander Leads the army there-- From whose eyes the lightning flashes, 'Neath his snowy hair. Swells the host until as Griesbach's Billows roaring loud, From the Eastward nears the army As a thunder cloud. Kasbek peered with sinister boding Through the clouds,--would fain Count his enemies approaching-- Found it was in vain: Threw one glance unto the mountains-- Anguished, overcome, O'er his brow drew close the vapours, Was forever dumb.