The Scarlet Flower

He set off on his way, on the road. Here is an honest merchant traveling on foreign sides overseas, across unseen kingdoms; he sells his goods at exorbitant prices, buys other people's goods at three-fold prices, he exchanges goods for goods and a gangway, with the addition of silver and gold; he loads ships with gold treasury and sends them home. He found a cherished present for his eldest daughter: a crown with semi-precious stones, and from them it is light on a dark night, as if on a white day. I also found a treasured present for my middle daughter: a crystal tuvalet, and in it you can see all the beauty of heaven, and, looking into it, the maiden beauty does not age, but increases. He cannot only find a cherished gift for his younger, beloved daughter - a scarlet flower, which would not be more beautiful in the world.
In the gardens of the tsar, the royal and the sultan's, he found many scarlet flowers of such beauty that he could neither say in a fairy tale, nor write with a pen; but no one gives him a guarantee that there is no more beautiful flower in this world; and he himself does not think so. Here he goes along the road, along the road with his faithful servants, through the loose sands, through the dense forests, and out of nowhere, robbers, Busurmans, Turkish and Indian, flew at him, and, seeing an imminent disaster, the honest merchant throws his rich caravans with his servants faithful and flees into the dark forests. “Let them be devoured by fierce beasts, than to fall into the hands of robbers, filthy ones and live out my life in captivity in captivity.”