He directs flow melodious,
I went into a silent blue,
He disappeared in the expanse of the deep
Dreaming distant storms.
we, forgotten in the wild country,
We lived poor, alien tears,
thrill, We prayed on the rocks,
Not given shorayuschyh roses.
Suddenly rushed to the north moody,
In an unprecedented glory appeared,
Called itself the death Duma,
The sun, moon and stars in the queue.
Send clouds and anxiety,
All the everyday - in a sweet haze,
Ran holy road,
As if the sky had returned to earth.
And in our land Wild
We comprehend roses combustion.
Evil thoughts and proud rocks -
All it melted in the flames of tears.
1 July 1902
