Russian folk tale about the hero Ilya Muromets and the Nightingale the Robber will be of interest to both children and adults. It tells about the glorious hero Ilya from Murom, who caught the Nightingale the Robber and took him to Kyiv to Prince Vladimir.

Read online Russian folk tale Ilya Muromets and the Nightingale the Robber

Ilya Muromets gallops at full speed. His horse, Burushka-Kosmatushka, jumps from mountain to mountain, jumps over rivers and lakes, and flies over hills. They galloped to the Bryn forests; Burushka could not ride any further: the swamps were swampy, and the horse was drowning in water up to its belly. Ilya jumped off his horse. He supports Burushka with his left hand, and right hand It tears up oak trees by the roots and lays oak floorings across the swamp. Ilya laid out decks for thirty miles - good people still ride on them.

So Ilya reached the Smorodina River. The river flows wide, turbulent, and rolls from stone to stone. The horse Burushka neighed, soared higher than the dark forest and jumped over the river in one bound. And across the river the Nightingale the Robber sits on three oak trees, on nine branches. Neither a falcon will fly past those oak trees, nor a beast will run, nor a snake will crawl past them. Everyone is afraid of the Nightingale the Robber, no one wants to die... The Nightingale heard the gallop of a horse, stood up on the oak trees, and shouted in a terrible voice:

What kind of ignoramus is driving here, past my protected oak trees? Doesn't let the Robber Nightingale sleep!

Yes, as he whistled like a nightingale, roared like an animal, hissed like a snake, the whole earth trembled, the hundred-year-old oaks swayed, the flowers fell off, the grass lay down. Burushka-Kosmatushka fell to his knees. And Ilya sits in the saddle, does not move, the light brown curls on his head do not tremble. He took a silk whip and hit the horse on the steep sides.

You are a bag of grass, not a heroic horse. Have you not heard the squeak of a bird, the hiss of a viper? Get on your feet, take me closer to the Nightingale’s Nest, or I’ll throw you to the wolves.

Then Burushka jumped to his feet and galloped towards the Nightingale’s nest. The Nightingale the Robber was surprised

- What is it?

He leaned out of the nest. And Ilya, without hesitating for a minute, pulled his tight bow and shot a red-hot arrow, a small arrow weighing a whole pound. The bowstring howled, the arrow flew, hit the Nightingale in the right eye, and flew out through the left ear. The Nightingale rolled out of the nest like a sheaf of oats. Ilya picked him up in his arms, tied him tightly with rawhide straps, and tied him to the left stirrup.

The Nightingale looks at Ilya, afraid to say a word.

Why are you looking at me, robber, or have you never seen Russian heroes?

Oh, I’m in strong hands, I’ll probably never be free again!

Ilya galloped further along the straight road and rode to the farmstead of the Nightingale the Robber. He has a courtyard of seven miles, on seven pillars, he has an iron fence around him, on each stamen there is a crown, on each crown there is the head of a slain hero. And in the courtyard there are white stone chambers, gilded porches burning like heat.

Nightingale’s daughter saw the heroic horse and shouted to the whole yard:

Our father Solovey Rakhmanovich is riding, riding, carrying a peasant peasant at his stirrup.

The wife of the Nightingale the Robber looked out the window and clasped her hands:

What are you saying, foolish one! This is a country man riding and carrying our father, Solovy Rakhmanovich, at the stirrup!

Nightingale’s eldest daughter, Pelka, ran out into the yard, grabbed an iron board weighing ninety pounds and threw it at Ilya Muromets. But Ilya was dexterous and evasive, he waved the board away with a heroic hand, the board flew back, hit Pelka and killed her to death. Nightingale’s wife threw herself at Ilya’s feet:

Take from us, hero, silver, gold, priceless pearls, as much as your heroic horse can carry, just release our father, Nightingale the Robber.

Ilya says to her in response:

I don’t need unjust gifts. They were obtained with the tears of children, they were watered with Russian blood, acquired by peasant need. Like a robber in the hands - he is always your friend, but if you let him go, you will cry with him again. I’ll take Nightingale to Kyiv-Gorod, where I’ll drink kvass and make kalachi.

Ilya turned his horse and galloped towards Kyiv. The Nightingale fell silent and did not move. Ilya is driving around Kyiv, approaching the princely chambers. He tied the horse to a chiseled post, left the Nightingale the Robber on it, and he himself went to the bright room. There, Prince Vladimir is having a feast, Russian heroes are sitting at the tables. Ilya entered, bowed, and stood at the threshold:

Hello, Prince Vladimir and Princess Apraxia, are you receiving a visiting young man?

Vladimir Red Sun asks him:

Where are you from, good fellow, what is your name? What tribe are you?

My name is Ilya. I'm from near Murom. A peasant son from the village of Karacharova. I was driving from Chernigov along a straight, wide road. I brought you, prince, the Nightingale the Robber, he is tied to my horse in your yard. Wouldn't you like to take a look at him?

The prince and princess and all the heroes jumped up from their seats and hurried after Ilya to the prince’s court. They ran up to Burushka-Kosmatushka. And the robber hangs by the stirrup, hanging with a grass bag, his hands and feet tied with straps. With his left eye he looks at Kyiv and Prince Vladimir.

Prince Vladimir tells him:

Come on, whistle like a nightingale, roar like an animal!

The Nightingale the Thief does not look at him, does not listen:

It was not you who took me in battle, it is not you who ordered me.

Then Prince Vladimir asks Ilya Muromets:

Order him, Ilya Ivanovich.

Okay, but don’t be angry with me, prince, I’ll cover you and the princess with the skirts of my peasant caftan, no matter how much trouble there is. And you, Solovey Rakhmanovich, do as you are ordered.

I can’t whistle, my mouth is caked.

Give the Nightingale Chara a bucket and a half of sweet wine, and another of bitter beer, and a third of intoxicating honey, give him a snack of rye roll, then he will whistle and amuse us...

They gave the Nightingale a drink, fed it, and the Nightingale got ready to whistle.

Look, Nightingale,” says Ilya, “don’t you dare whistle at the top of your voice, but whistle half-whistle, growl half-roar, otherwise it will be bad for you.”

Nightingale did not listen to the order of Ilya Muromets, he wanted to ruin Kyiv City, he wanted to kill the prince and princess and all the Russian heroes. He whistled like a nightingale, roared like a nightingale, and hissed like a snake.

What happened here! The turrets on the towers became crooked, the porches fell off the walls, the glass in the upper rooms burst, the horses ran away from the stables, all the heroes fell to the ground and crawled around the yard on all fours. Prince Vladimir himself is barely alive, staggering, hiding under Ilya’s caftan.

Ilya got angry with the robber:

I told you to amuse the prince and princess, but you did so much trouble. Well, now I’ll pay you off for everything. You are full of offending fathers and mothers, you are full of widowing young women, you are full of orphaning children, you are full of robberies. Ilya took a sharp saber and cut off the Nightingale’s head. Here the end of the Nightingale came.

Thank you, Ilya Muromets, says Vladimir the Prince. - Stay in my squad, you will be a senior hero, a boss over other heroes. And live with us in Kyiv, live forever, from now until death.

Either from the city of Murom,
From that village and from Karacharovo
A remote, portly, kind fellow was leaving.
He stood at Matins in Murom.
And I wanted to be in time for lunch
he is in the capital Kyiv-grad.
And he drove up to the glorious city of Chernigov.
Is it near the city of Chernigov?
The forces are caught up in black and black,
And it’s black and black, like a black crow.
So no one walks here like infantry,
Nobody's on a good horse here
does not pass
The black raven bird does not fly,
Let the gray beast not prowl.
And he approached as if to a great powerhouse.
How did he become this great force,
He began to trample with his horse and began to stab with a spear,
And he beat this great force,
He drove up to the glorious city of Chernigov.
The peasants came out and here Chernigov
And they opened the gates to Chernigov-grad,
And they call him a governor in Chernigov.
Ilya tells them these words:
“Oh, you guys are from Chernigov!
I will not come to you in Chernigov as a commander.
Show me the straight path,
I’m going straight to the capital Kyiv-grad.”
The peasants spoke to him in Chernigov style:
“You are a remote, portly, kind fellow,
Oh, you are a glorious hero
yes Holy Russian!
The straight path is blocked,
The path is closed up, walled up,
And I’m going straight along that path
Yes, no one walked by the infantry,
No one rode by on a good horse.
Like that one of Gryazi or Black,
Yes, whether it’s near the birch tree or the gag,
Is it near that river near Smorodina,
At that cross near Levanidov
The Nightingale the Robber sits in a damp oak tree,
Nightingale the Robber Odikhmantiev's son is sitting.
Otherwise the Nightingale whistles like a nightingale,
He screams, a villainous robber, like an animal.
And is it from him, from the nightingale's whistle,
And is it because of the animal's cry?

All the azure flowers fall off,
The dark forests all bow to the ground,
And what people there are, they’re all lying dead.
The straight road is five hundred miles away,
Oh, by a roundabout path - as many as a thousand.”
He unleashed a good horse and a heroic one,
He took the straight path.

He began to jump from mountain to mountain,
He began to jump from hill to hill,
Small rivers, little lakes between my legs.
He drives up to the river near Smorodinka,
Yes, to the one he is to the Dirt, he is to the Black one,
Yes, whether to the birch tree or the curse,
To that glorious cross to Levanidov.
The Nightingale whistled like a nightingale,
The villainous robber screamed like an animal,
So all the grass-ants were entwined,
Yes, the azure flowers fell off,
The dark forests were all bowing to the ground.
His good horse and heroic
And he stumbles along the basket.
And he’s like an old Cossack
yes Ilya Muromets
He takes a silk whip into his white hand,
And he hit the horse and on the steep ribs,
He spoke, Ilya, and these are the words:
“Oh, you wolf’s fill and a bag of grass!
Or don’t you want to go, or can’t carry it?
Why are you stumbling, dog?

Have you heard the nightingale whistle,
Have you heard the cry of an animal?
Haven’t you seen the heroic blows?”
And here is the old Cossack
yes Ilya Muromets,
Yes, he takes his tight, explosive bow,
He takes it in his own hands,
He pulled the silk string,
And he applied a red-hot arrow.
He shot so-and-so
Nightingale the Robber,
He knocked out his right eye with a pigtail,
He let the Nightingale fall to the damp ground,
Strap it to the right
to the damask stirrup.
He drove him across the glorious open field,
He took a nightingale past the nest.
In that nest and the nightingale
And it happened that there were three daughters,
And his three beloved daughters.
The big daughter is watching
the window is squinting,
She says these are the words:
“Our father is driving through an open field,
And he sits on a good horse,
And he’s carrying a hillbilly peasant
Yes, she’s chained to the right stirrup.”
His friend's beloved daughter looked at him,

“Father is traveling along the road
clean field
Yes, he’s carrying a peasant hillbilly
Yes, it’s chained to the right stirrup.”
His beloved little daughter looked at him,
She said these words:
“A rustic peasant is riding,
Yes, there is a man sitting on a good horse,
Yes, our father is lucky at the stirrup,
The damask one is chained to the stirrup -
His right eye with a pigtail was knocked out.”
She said these words:
“Oh, our beloved husbands!
Take the animal spears
Yes, run to the open field in the expanse,
Yes, you beat the hillbilly peasant!”
These husbands and their beloved ones,
There are sons-in-law and nightingales,
They grabbed me like animal horns,
They ran into an open field
Whether to the peasant-hillbilly
Yes, they want to kill the hillbilly peasants.
The Nightingale the Robber Odikhmantyev’s son tells them:
“Oh, my beloved sons-in-law!
Throw down the animal spears,
You call a man and a hillbilly,
Call the nightingale to your nest,
Yes, feed him some sugar,
Yes, you sing it with a honey drink,
Give him precious gifts!”
These sons-in-law and nightingales
They threw away the animals' spears,
Ay, the name of the man and the hillbilly
In that nest and the nightingale.
Yes, the hillbilly guy didn’t listen,
And he’s driving through a glorious open field
Directly along the path to the capital Kyiv-grad.
He came to the glorious capital Kyiv city
And to the glorious prince in the wide courtyard.
Ay Vladimir-prince he left God's church,
He came to the white stone chamber,
To your dining room in the little room,
They sat down to eat and drink and eat bread,
Eat bread and have lunch.

Oh, there's an old Cossack and Ilya Muromets
He stood his horse in the middle of the yard,
He himself goes to the white-stone chambers.
He came to the dining room in the little room,
He swung the door on his heel,
He laid the cross in the written way,
He bowed like a scientist,
On all three, on four sides he bowed low,
To Prince Vladimir himself especially,
He is also under the knees of all his princes.
Then Vladimir the Prince began to ask the young man:
“Tell me, you’re a great, burly, kind fellow,
Somehow, well done, they call you by your name,
Call him, the daring one, after his fatherland?”
The old Cossack said
yes Ilya Muromets:
“I am from the glorious city of Murom,
From that village and from Karacharov,
I am an old Cossack and Ilya Muromets,
Ilya Muromets and son Ivanovich.”
Vladimir says these words to him:
“Oh, the old Cossack and Ilya Muromets!
How long have you left Murom?
And which road did you take?
to the capital Kyiv-grad?
Ilya spoke and these are the words:
“Oh, you glorious Vladimir Stolnokievsky!
I stood at Matins of Christ
in Murom,
Oh, I wanted to be in time for lunch in the capital Kyiv-grad,
Then my path was slow.
And I was driving along the straight path,
I was driving along the straight road past Chernigov-grad,
I drove past this Mud and past Black.
I pass by the glorious river Smorodina,
I’ll curse that glorious birch tree past,
Levanidov’s cross rode past.”
Vladimir spoke to him these words:
“Oh, what a hillbilly peasant,
In your eyes, man, you're playing tricks,
In your eyes, man, you're mocking.
Like the glorious city of Chernigov
A lot of force has been brought up here -
No one was walking around with the infantry
And no one rode on a good horse,
The gray beast did not prowl there,
The black raven bird did not fly by.
Is it the one at Gryazi’s or at Chernoya’s,
Yes, by the glorious river near Smorodina,
And whether that birch tree has a gag,
At that cross near Levanidov
Nightingale sits the robber Odikhmantiev's son.
The way the Nightingale whistles, yes
like a nightingale,
How the villainous robber screams
like an animal.
Then all the grass-ants are entangled,
And the azure flowers fall away,
Dark forests to the ground
everyone bows down
And as for the people, they’re all lying dead.”
Ilya spoke to him and these are the words:
“You are Vladimir the Prince of Stolnokiev!
Nightingale the Robber in your yard.
His right eye was knocked out
with a braid,
And he is chained to a damask stirrup.”
Here is Vladimir the Prince
yes Stolnokievsky
He quickly got up and on his frisky legs,
He threw his marten fur coat over one shoulder,
Here he wears a sable cap over one ear,
He went out into his wide yard
Look at the Nightingale the Robber.

Prince Vladimir spoke and these are the words:
“Suck it, Nightingale,
you are like a nightingale,
Cry, dog, like an animal!”
The Nightingale the Robber Odikhmantiev's son said:
“It’s not with you today, Prince, that I’m having lunch,
It’s not you that I want to listen to.
I dined with an old Cossack
Ilya Muromets,
Yes, I want to listen to him.”
Prince Vladimir spoke
yes Stolnokievsky:
“Oh, you’re an old Cossack!
Ilya Muromets!
Tell the Nightingale to whistle like a nightingale,
Tell someone to scream
Yes, like an animal."
Ilya spoke and these are the words:
“Oh Nightingale the Robber Odikhmantiev’s son!
Whistle at half the whistle of a nightingale,
Scream like an animal."
The Nightingale the Robber Odikhmantiev’s son told him:
“Oh, you old Cossack,
Ilya Muromets!
My bloody wounds are sealed,
May my sugar lips not walk,
I can’t whistle like a nightingale,
I can’t scream like an animal.
And tell Prince Vladimir
Pour me a glass of wine and some green wine.
I'll drink like a spell of green wine, -
My bloody wounds will burst,
May my sugar lips part,
Yes, then I will whistle like a nightingale,
Then I’ll scream like an animal.”
Ilya said to Prince Vladimir:
"You are Vladimir prince
yes Stolnokievsky,
You go to your dining room in the little room,
Pour some green wine.
You are not a small foot - but a bucket and a half,
Bring it to the Nightingale the Robber.”
Prince Vladimir is here
yes Stolnokievsky
He quickly went to the dining room to his little room,
He poured a glass of green wine,
Yes, he’s not a small foot - yes, a bucket and a half,
He cultivated standing honeys,
He brought it to the Nightingale the Robber.
Nightingale the Robber Odikhmantiev's son
He accepted the glass from the prince with one hand,
Nightingale drank that glass in one breath.

Whistled like a Nightingale here
like a nightingale,
The robber screamed like an animal, -
The poppies on the towers have become crooked,
And the saplings are in the towers
scattered.
From him, from the nightingale's whistle,
No matter how many people there are, they are all lying dead,
And Vladimir is Prince Stolnokievsky
He covers himself with a marten fur coat.
And here is the old Cossack
yes Ilya Muromets
He quickly mounted his good horse,
And he was taking Nightingale to an open field,
And he cut off his head.
Ilya spoke and these are the words:
"You're too tired to whistle
yes, like a nightingale,
You're full of tears
yes fathers and mothers,
It’s enough for you to make widows and young wives.
It’s enough for you to let little children become orphans!”
And here they sing the Nightingale’s glory to him,
And they sing his glory for centuries!

ILYA MUROMETS AND THE NIGHTINGALE THE ROBBER

Either from the city of Murom,

From that village and Karacharova

a remote, portly, kind fellow was leaving.

He stood at Matins in Murom,

And he wanted to be in time for lunch in the capital Kyiv-grad.

Yes, he drove up to the glorious city of Chernigov,

Is it near the city of Chernigov?

The forces are caught up in black and black,

And it’s as black as a black crow.

No one walks here so reluctantly,

No one rides here on a good horse,

The black raven bird does not fly,

Let the gray beast not prowl.

And he approached as if to a great powerhouse,

How did he become this great powerhouse,

He began to trample with his horse and began to stab with a spear,

And he defeated this great force,

He drove up to the glorious city of Chernigov,

The peasants came out and here Chernigov

And they opened the gates to Chernigov-grad.

And they call him a governor in Chernigov.

Ilya tells them these words:

Hey guys, you're from Chernigov!

I am not coming to you as a commander in Chernigov.

He began to jump from hill to hill,

There were small rivers and little lakes between my legs.

He drives up to the river near Smorodinka,

Yes, to that he is to Dirt, he is to Black.

Yes, to that birch tree, to the curse,

To that glorious cross to Levanidov.

The Nightingale whistled like a nightingale,

The villain-robber screamed like an animal -

So all the grass-ants were entwined,

And the azure flowers fell off,

The dark forests all bowed to the ground.

His good horse and heroic

And he stumbles on the roots -

And like the old Cossack and Ilya Muromets

He takes a silk whip in his hand when in trouble.

And he hit the horse on its steep ribs.

He spoke to Ilya these words:

Oh, you're a wolf's fill and a bag of grass!*

Or don’t you want to go, or can’t carry it?

Why are you stumbling on the roots, dog?

Have you heard the nightingale whistle,

Have you heard the cry of an animal?

Have you seen any heroic blows? -

And here is the old Cossack and Ilya Muromets

Yes, he takes his tight, explosive bow*,

He takes it in his own hands,

He pulled the silken string,

And he put a red-hot arrow,

He shot at that Nightingale the Robber,

He knocked out his right eye with a pigtail,

He let the Nightingale fall to the damp ground.

He fastened it to the right one with a damask stirrup,

He drove him across the glorious open field,

He took a nightingale past the nest.

In that nest and the nightingale

And it happened that there were three daughters,

And his three beloved daughters.

Big daughter - this one looks out the window awkwardly,

She says these are the words:

Our father is driving through an open field.

And he sits on a good horse,

And he’s carrying a hillbilly peasant

Yes, the one on the right is chained to the stirrup.-

Looked like another beloved daughter,

Our father is driving through an open field of land,

Yes, and he’s carrying a hillbilly peasant

Yes, and chained to the right stirrup.-

His beloved little daughter looked at him,

She said these words:

A hillbilly peasant is riding,

And the man is sitting on a good horse.

And our father is lucky at the stirrup,

The damask one is chained to the stirrup -

His right eye with a braid was knocked out.

She also said these words:

And our beloved husbands!

You take the animal spears*

Yes, run to the open field in the expanse,

Yes, you beat the hillbilly peasant!

These husbands and their beloved ones,

There are sons-in-law and nightingales,

Grabbed like animal horns

Yes, and they ran into an open field

Whether to the peasant-hillbilly

Yes, they want to kill the hillbilly peasant.

The fairy tale Ilya Muromets and the Nightingale the Robber - about a Russian character heroic epic- hero Ilya Muromets. After reading this fairy tale online, children will definitely want to get acquainted with the cycle of epic tales about the glorious hero.

Fairy tale Ilya Muromets and the Nightingale the Robber read

Who is Ilya Muromets

This issue causes a lot of controversy among researchers. Both fairy tales and epic stories say that Ilya comes from the village of Karacharovo, near Murom. The legendary information about the hero is interesting: from birth he was crippled, until the age of thirty-three his legs did not move. The holy elders came to him and forced him to stand up and give them water to drink. And he gained heroic power in order to fulfill his destiny - to defend the Russian land and people from enemy forces. Interesting legendary information about the hero is intertwined with real information, which indicates that, having completed his feats of arms, Ilya came to Kiev Pechersk Lavra to help people through prayer. After his death he was canonized and canonized. It has even been established where his holy relics are located - in the Near Caves of the Kiev Pechersk Lavra.

Ilya was mighty and strong. He could uproot huge trees and jump over rivers and lakes on horseback. The good fellow learned about the atrocities of the Nightingale the Robber, and went to the borders of the Russian land to fight the monster at the Smorodina River. He defeated the Nightingale the Robber, tied his horse to the saddle and rode into the enemy’s mansion. Nightingale’s daughters first tried to kill Ilya, then they wanted to bribe him with gold and jewelry. Only the hero turned out to be incorruptible. He took the prisoner to the capital Kyiv-grad for trial before Prince Vladimir. There the Nightingale the Robber found his death from the sword of the glorious hero. And the prince invited Ilya Muromets to serve as a senior hero in his squad. You can read the fairy tale online on our website.

Analysis of the fairy tale Ilya Muromets and the Nightingale the Robber

Melody and the presence of bright constant epithets make the fairy tale Ilya Muromets and the Nightingale the Robber similar to epic genre. Its theme is protection. native land from enemies. Positive hero Ilya is contrasted with the negative - Nightingale. Both heroes are endowed with extraordinary strength. But Ilya has truth and justice on his side. He is the defender of his land, and Nightingale is an invader who brought a lot of grief to people. The image of Ilya Muromets - collective image hero-defender of the Russian land from enemies. What does the fairy tale Ilya Muromets and the Nightingale the Robber teach? The fairy tale teaches you to protect native land and people who are in trouble.