ABSTRACT
In a certain tsardom, but not in our country, beyond the deep blue seas, beyond dark forests, in a rich city, there lived a voevoda. He had been a bachelor for a long time, but then he decided to get married. After a little while, a son was bom to him who was very clever: on his forehead was the bright sun, on the crown of his head was the moon. Out of sheer joy, the voevoda began putting on feast after feast. The music resounded in his chambers, and military songs were sung. Once at one of his feasts a guest took a goblet of wine and said: “I drink for the health of our host, his friends, and his newly bom son. I’ll speak the whole truth. Your son will flower like the poppy, shine like the sun, he will be strong, clever, and rich, and in his wealth he will attain both honor and glory.”
