All in mysterious silence,
Hill dressed darkness,
He walks in the cloud radiance
crescent young.
Dark myrtles curtain
The slope of the waters;
In their canopy, near the forest entrance,
Whose tomb I see there?
Rose young aleyut
Ancient stone circle,
And they do not dare Marshmallows
Sveyat quivering wings.
I see: lira over the grave
Slumbers in sweet silence,
Sometimes only a dull ringing,
If the voice of a cute sloth,
In the dead heard the string.
I see: Gorlitz of lire,
The roses cup and crown ...
other, other! in eternal peace
Here Teosskoy sleeps sage.
look: the tombs
Son depicted OTRADA.
Here in windy harp
Slap our Anacreon,
enchanted beauty,
Gently she sings hymns,
topped with grapes,
In the bowl of juice it Liet.
Here he is looking in the mirror,
speaking: “I ETS and old;
Let me enjoy life -
A life, Alas! not an eternal gift!..”
Here, the harp kinuv hands
And frowning brow important,
He wants to sing god of battle,
But singing one love. —
Here, nature is preparing
Heavy duty it is to pay;
Old dances in the dance,
Quench thirst asks:
Around the gray-haired philosopher
Virgin dance and sing;
On the time skupogo
Steals a few minutes.
That's muse, and Charites
The pet coffin withdrawn,
flatten, roses povit,
Games, Laughter followed left;
He disappeared, as pleasure,
Muffled sigh of love.
Mortal! your age - dreams:
Happiness frisky catch,
enjoy! enjoy!
More often pour cup,
Tired of tender passion,
And the rest of the bowl.
