Eyes, lowered modestly,
Shoulder, closed veil…
You seem to many a saint,
Notes, Maria, treacherous…
Being a virgin - to be at the mercy of the night,
Swing on the waves of the sea…
And not in vain, these eyes
To laymen jealous monk:
He was in a gloomy alcove of the church
Made with her brother -
Away from sinful dreams,
In prayer oblivion…
but, brothers tired
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End of devotion and mists!
Now - in all the churches It
Equal Monaghan and miryanam
On poruganye faithful…
But there is one secret suitor
Divine beauty - poet…
He sees your extraordinary,
unfading, Maria, shine!
He was on his knees in a dark niche
Atone for the sins of the passionate,
Atone for his delight indiscreet,
Their sinful verses!
And you, Whose heart favorably,
Not hnevaysya and not see,
What one looks lovingly at times
In the caressing Your height!
12 June 1909
