Alexander Pushkin. Prisoner

I'm sitting behind bars, all evil came back.
Young eagle beyond tears his bloody bag.
And picks it, and eats it, and throws, and cries,
and tries t'say by his eye and wing: "Let us fly!

We - free breed, we - free breed, it's time, friend,
it's time!
White mountains wait us and clouds and sky.
Unknown blind snows below my wing lie
where wind flies alone and I only fly!"