Демон, ч. 1, XYI - пер. М. Ю. Лермонтова

The words stopped sounding in distance,
One after one they disappeared.
She jumped up, looking round, near...
She felt the inexpressive fear,
The perturbation in her breast.
The heat of ectasy - was nothing,
Compared with the feeling crest;
The soul was rending its strict bondage,
And fire raced through net of veins,
And that voice mystic seemed to be heard
Anew in silence and again...
Before the dawn the dream's oncoming
Calmed down tired eyes and strain;
But he disturbed her with the thought
Of the prophetic dream, though strange,
The alien, who'd come to her,
So unearthly beautiful in haze,
And mute, were bending over head,
And looked at her with love sencere,
He looked at her, but so sad,
As feeling thus the inner pity.
That wasn't an angel from the sky,
The angel-keeper of divinity,
The crown of shining rays wasn't up
On hair curls, as common image.
That was not spirit of the hell,
So vicious, terrible - oh, no!
He was like evening clear, yet,
Not day, not night - nor dark, nor glow!

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Уффф! ура, первая часть закончена! ;) Остается все проверить заново...