On the edges of the Earth, where skies are cloudless,
Where they somewhat meet horizons by the stars,
On the hill, there stood some ugly-looking towers,
Looking like United Nations from afar.

Many lights there glow and glare,
All around brightly shines,
But one queen that looks so fair,
In these towers lives confined.

And the Immortal Devil-Tsar put up a watchdog here,
Not to let anyone enter past the gate,
But in his own way unhappy, kind, dear,
Might have been this dog, all we can say.

From his mom this dog was taken,
All the time, tears he sheds,
He won’t stop as he is shaking
Fifteen eyes and seven heads.

And the Tsar, (with arms so strong, was once so powerful),
Now had shrunken from his loving of the queen,
In his own way unhappy he was, sorrowful,
But the dog would not allow him to come in.

”Make an exception, with desire,
I have trembled as of late!” -
”Lay me off from work or fire,
I won’t let you past the gate!”

Noble warrior Ivan bragged that he could reach that place
Said ”I’ve seen those Tsars and Devils” with a smirk
If a conflict starts, he would engage and race,
In his own way unhappy, he’s a jerk.

Either owls began to howl
Or the loon began its cry,
And the air was getting foul,
For the jerk, this Ivan guy.

And his needless quests and battles have begun that day,
Pointless wars with Baba Yaga to the death.
She is also unhappy in her own way
This poor woman of the forest full of wrath.

Ivan hunted for the witches
Two condemned ones were so young...
As he killed them, he was screeching,
Shed a tear as they sunk.

He had overcome his fears, onto the road he crept,
Ivan fought toward his goal on the way.
By the gate, a kind golden biting watchdog slept,
Seven faces at the fountain it made.

To the dog the man in running,
Chops its heads off in great haste.
To the Devil he is coming,
Points the blade right to his face.

And he mocks this poor old man, two hundred years old,
”Now let me get your beard trimmed and cut,
So perish, Devil, die now,” but the Tsar retorts:
”I’d be glad, but I’m Immortal, I cannot!”

Ivan yells: ”I know you’re faking,
With your tricks, intrigues, and gloom!
All this tower is your making,
With a girl in these rooms!

I will serve my patriotic duty as I planned!”
And the Devil, from this speech, so strange, bizarre,
Died himself, with no need of helping hand.
He was backward and uncultured Devil-Tsar.

Ivan grew so mad and rabid,
Kicked the Devil on the floor,
To the woman so unhappy,
He had risen through the door.