Tell me, League, in which land is distant
Tsvetesh now under the blue sky?
Who fell at your feet, prelschennыy dyvnыm eye?
As a flame of fire, like bluish smoke,
He tries in vain to cling to face purple,
Kiss kiss of reply,
But flies up in the air and azure
Thy lips can not kiss…
And you, insidious, haughtiness, strong affection
I crept into my soul and there ignited lights.
But the flame of my mask is covered with cold,
My mouth is silent and cold, they…
…………………………………….
June 1898
Shakhmatovo
