Privetnoye Lel, I do not wait for dawn,
But I see a wonderful shine away;
Tell me, Lel, Mademoiselle is not the sun
Beyond the edge of the earth deathly?
Why, Lel, you budish early
Us, not ready at the sleepy hour
take the goddess, of fog
Dawn the carrier for us?
It is not the time to believe the sun;
Us, the poor inhabitants of the worlds,
Do not evaluate or measure
His divine gifts.
it rises, light flux
Us, drowsy, blind,
And only the immortal spirit of the poet
Into his arms fly away…
29 January 1900
