An introduction is the description of the sea, the Crimean shore in the evening. The author sits near the fire with Nadir-Raghim-oglu and cooks his ear. The author asks Rahim to tell the tale, he answers that he has already told everything. The author continues to insist, then Ragim suggests telling him the song.
He climbed high into the mountains and lay down there in a damp canyon, curled up in a bundle and looking out into the sea.
The sun was shining high in the sky, and the mountains were breathing in the heat with the heat, and the waves below were beating against the stone.
And along the gorge, in the darkness and splashes, the stream sought to meet the sea, rattling with stones.
All in white foam, gray and strong, he cut mountains and fell into the sea, angrily howling.
Suddenly, in the gorge where Uzh curled up, the Falcon fell from the sky with a broken chest, in blood on feathers.
With a short cry, he fell to the ground and beat with
a chest in impotent rage against a hard stone.
I was frightened, crawled creepily, but soon realized that the bird’s life was two to three minutes.
He crawled closer to the broken bird, and he hissed directly into her eyes:
– Yes, I’m dying! answered Sokol, sighing deeply. “I’ve lived nice.” I know happiness. I bravely fought. I saw the sky. You will not see him so close. Oh, you poor thing!
“Well, what about the sky?” – empty place. How can I crawl there? I’m fine here. warm and damp.
So I already answered a free bird and grinned at heart over it for these nonsense.
And so he thought: “Fly or crawl, the end is known: everyone will fall to the ground, everything will be ashes.”
But the Falcon boldly suddenly started, rose a little and led his eyes in the gorge.
Through the gray stone the water oozed, and it was stuffy in the gorge dark and smelled of rot.
And the Falcon shouted with anguish and pain, gathering all his strength:
“Oh, if only once in the sky to rise.”
I would have pressed the enemy. to the wounds of the chest and. he would choke on my blood. Oh, the happiness of the battle.
And I thought: “It must be in the sky, indeed, to live comfortably, since he is moaning so.”
And he offered to the free bird: “And you go to the edge of the gorge and throw yourself down, perhaps you will be lifted by wings and you will live a little more in your element.”
And Sokol faltered and, shouting proudly, went to the cliff, sliding his claws over the slime of the stone.
And he approached, spread his wings, sighed with all his breast, flashed his eyes and – down rolled down.
And, like a stone, sliding on the rocks, he quickly fell, breaking his wings, losing feathers.
The wave of the stream grabbed him, and, having bathed his blood, put it in foam, disappeared into the sea. And waves of the sea with a sad roar on the stone fought. And the corpse of the bird was not visible in the sea.
In the gorge lying, For a long time I thought about the death of a bird, about the passion for heaven.
And then he looked to the distance, which always caresses the eyes of a dream of happiness.
– And what did he see, the deceased Falcon, in this desert without a bottom and edge? Why such, like him, dead, confuse the soul with his love for flying to heaven? What is clear to them there? And I, after all, could learn all this by flying up to the sky for a little while.
Said – and did. In the ring curled, he spun into the air and a narrow ribbon flashed in the sun.
Born to crawl – can not fly! Forgetting about this, he fell on the rocks, but he did not get killed, but laughed.
“So that’s the beauty of flying into the sky!” She is in the fall. Funny birds! The Earth, not knowing, yearning for it, they seek high in the sky and seek life in a desolate hot. It’s just empty. There is a lot of light, but there is no food there and there is no support for the living body. Why do pride? Why rebukes? Then, to cover up the folly of their desires and hide behind them their worthlessness for the cause of life? Funny birds! But they will not deceive me anymore! I know everything myself! I saw the sky. I flew into it, measured it, I knew the fall, but I did not break it, but only I believe in it more firmly. Let those who can not love the earth, live by deceit. I know the truth. And I do not believe their calls. Land of creation – I live by the earth.
And he curled up on a rock, proud of himself.
The sea shone brightly, all in a bright light, and the waves on the shore were threateningly furious. In their lion’s roar the song of a proud bird was thundering, the rocks were shaking from their blows, the sky trembled with a terrible song:
“To the madness of the brave we sing glory!”
The madness of the brave is the wisdom of life! O brave Sov: ol! In battle with the enemies, you are bleeding. But there will be time – and drops of your blood hot, like sparks, will flash in the darkness of life and many brave hearts will ignite a craving for freedom, light!
Let them die. But in a song of courageous and strong in spirit, you will always be a living example, a call to the proud to freedom, to the light!
Madness of the brave we sing a song.
The conclusion is the same picture that is given in the exposition. Raghim jokingly tries to drive away the wave that has approached him. The author looks around, and the landscape seems to him spiritualized. “Everything slumbers, but sleeps tensely sensitively, and it seems that in the next second everything will start and sound in the harmonious harmony of inexplicably sweet sounds.”