Letter to the Duke. Gorchakov

pet fashion, large light one,
Customs brilliant observer,
You wilt thou leave me a peace circle,
Where, beauty carefree swain,
I spend my leisure I Do not Know.
How do you, my friend, inexperienced in the summer,
Danger seduced by vanity,
I was losing a life and a sense of peace and;
But carbon monoxide poisoning in a child of the great world
And the rest I have cleaned home.
AND, I confess, to me a hundred times dearer
Youthful rakes happy family,
Where the mind is boiling, where I thought free,
Where I argue aloud, where I feel alive,
And where we are - nice friends,
The sluggish, soulless Assembly,
Where the mind stores involuntary silence,
Where cold heart struck,
Where Buturlin - ignorant legislator,
Where shaping-machine - king, and boredom - Chairman,
Where folly united everyone is equal.
I remember them, children selfish,
Evil mad, pride Spesivykh,
AND, making out tyrants fashion hall,
I shun their reproaches and praises!..
When in range of Laish pious
Excessive ignorant-General
Beauties alert and sleepy
Hardly sharpens French madrigal,
Looking at all the impudence with supportive,
And all around and doze, and silent,
Twist his mustache and spurs jingle
And occasionally a smile yawn, —
’, my friend, forgotten tricksy
Freedom, Bacchus and the Muses are treated.
I can not hear I am, sharp words,
funny babbling policy,
I do not see the worn fools,
saints ignorant, honorable scoundrels
B mystics court affectation!..
And for a moment you leave his lords
And my close circle of friends, Increase.
Oh you, Harith lover svoevolynыy,
nice smoothie, sarcastic chatterbox,
Still wit nebogomolny,
Poprežnemu philosopher and the saloon.

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Alexander Pushkin
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