Enchanted Evening, my long,
And hearken to the murmur of the jet,
Lay down the curtain of fog albescent
The green fields Your.
Dreary sleep I do not believe,
Immersing my heart in peace…
Soon my life will measure roughly
Unknown before I met you…
Someone's eyes motionless and long
At me through the trees look.
All, that heart, a children's innocent
And does not require passionate awards.
All, that heart, adjacent to the eyelashes,
But, I barely zaslyshu: «Fly», –
I'll fly with delight birds,
Leaving feathers on the road…
11 June 1903