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Часть текста: Ancient city is as if dead, Strange's my coming here. Vladimir has raised a black cross Over the river. Noisy elm trees, noisy lindens In the gardens dark, Raised to God, the needle-bearing Stars' bright diamond sparks. Sacrificial and glorious Way, I am ending here, With me is but you, my equal, And my love so dear.
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Часть текста: When with a strong but tired hand In dreary capital of nation Upon the whiteness of the page I did record my recantations, And wind into the window round Poured in a wet and silent stream The sky was burning, burning bright With smoky dawn, it so did seem. I did not look at the Nieva, The dawn-drenched granite did not view, And it appeared that that I, awake, my Unforgettable, saw you.. But then the unexpected night Covered the before-autumn town, That, so as to assist my flight, The ashen shadows melted down. I only took with me the cross, That you had given on day of treason That wormwood steppe should be in bloom And winds, like sirens, sing in season. And here upon an empty wall He keeps me from the broodings dour And I don't fear to recall Anything - even the final hour.