For you - the true queens of my soul,
For you - the beauties, only you,
With my firm hand I Iightly wrote
The tales of the old days anew
During the fluent whisper talking
About this, about that
During the golden leisure hours;
The work frivolous now take!
Without wish to be praiseworthy,
I'm happy with a chance, a hope,
That one day, once a loving virgin,
Would look in secret at my songs.
РиЛ, Посвящение - пер. А. С. Пушкина
© Copyright: Людмила 31, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112031509993
Свидетельство о публикации №112031509993
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