Do not call it heaven
And do not take away the land!
Night, all dark and incense,
Louder hiss nightingales,
All infinity, mnogotonney
Murmuring invisible jet…
For the old lime tree cover
flashed, disappeared… Here we go again…
And in the moonlight ran
Path of the shadow of her flit…
On such a night, I managed to learn,
At the sound of the night and spring,
The arms of a beautiful woman
In the rays of lifeless moon.
23 January 1899
St. Petersburg
