The prizoner превод Узника А. С. Пушкина на англий

The prison in which I am jailed is wet.
I have been grown up here, I'm yet
A young eagle. My fellow's over the steel
He pecks his blood beaten waging wings and he feels
The grief and he drops all his beaten, looks at me,
As if he does dream to be really free,
So’d I,and calls me by his gaze and cry
And he'd like to say me: “My braver, let's fly!
It's time to do it! We are free birds we might
Arrive at the cliff glimmering so white!
It's over a cloud It's where the see
Flashes blue and the wind takes a walk just with me!..”