19 October

Forest sheds its crimson dress,
Srebreno frost uvyanuvshee field,
Peep day as if by captivity
And hidden behind the edge of the district mountains.
dust, fireplace, in my lonely cell;
And you, wine, autumn cold one,
Pour me chest welcome hangover,
A moment's oblivion of bitter anguish.

mournful January: to me there is no other,
With whom would be washed down a long separation I,
Who could shake the hand of the heart
And I wish many years of cheerful.
I drink one; vain imagination
Around me mates calling:
Not hear the familiar approximation,
And dear my soul is waiting.

I drink one, and on the banks of the Neva
My friends today called ...
But many eh and there because you feast?
Another who were missing you?
Who changed the fascinating habit?
Whom you carried away from the cold light?
Whose voice was silent on the common roll?
Who did not come? Who is not amongst you?

He did not come, our Dalmatian singer,
With the fire in the eyes, guitar sladkoglasnoy:
Under Italy's beautiful myrtles
He quietly sleeps, and friendly tool
Not inscribed on the grave of Russian
A few words in the language native,
So once I found a dull hello
son of the north, wandering in the edge of another's.

Whether you are sitting in a circle of friends,
Alien heaven restless lover?
Or again you pass tropic sultry
And the eternal ice of the midnight sea?
happy way!.. With threshold litcejskogo
You stepped on the ship joking,
And from that time in the seas of your road,
ABOUT, waves and storms favorite child!

You kept in wandering fate
Wonderful years initially manners:
Lyceum noise, lyceum fun
Amid the stormy waves dreamed you:
You stretched out over the sea, we hand,
You have one soul in Mlada wore
and repeat: “At long separation
We have a secret rock, may be, denounced!”

My friends, perfect our union
On some soul indivisible and eternal -
Nekolebim, free and bespechen
Srostalsya it under the shadow of amicable muses.
Where would we not cast Fate,
And happiness which would neither led,
All the same, we: us a whole world of a foreign land;
Fatherland us Tsarskoye Selo.

From end to end the storm chasing,
Entangled in the fate of the harsh,
I am in awe at the bosom of a new friendship.
charter, pressed caressing the head of ...
On the plea of ​​my sad and rebellious,
From the first years of trusting hope,
Friends other soul surrendered to tender;
But bitter was nebratskogo their greetings.

And now here, forgotten in this wilderness,
In the monastery desert blizzards and hlada,
I was preparing sweet joy:
Three of you, friends of my soul,
There I embraced. Poet's house disgraced,
About Leo is my, You first visited;
You will delight exile sad day,
You on the day of his face turned.

You, Gorchakov, lucky in the first days,
Praise You - Fortune shine cold
I do not change your soul free:
All the same you for the honor and friends.
We are a different way of destiny appointed strict;
Stepping into life, we quickly dispersed:
But by chance a country road
We met and embraced each other fraternally.

When I grasped the momentous anger,
For all foreign, as an orphan homeless,
Under the head of the storm I hung languid
And I am waiting for you, Veshchunov permesskih virgins,
And you came, son inspired laziness,
About my Delvig: Your voice has awakened
heart glow, so long lulled,
And I cheerfully fate blessed.

From infancy we have the spirit of the songs in the burn,
And the wonderful excitement we have known;
From infancy two muses us fly,
And sweet was their kindness our destiny:
But I already loved the applause,
You're proud to sing for music and for the soul;
His gift as life I spent unheeded,
You're a genius brought her in silence.

Serving the Muses not tolerate fuss;
Perfect to be dignified:
But a youth mischievously advises us,
And we are pleased with the noisy dreams ...
Come to your senses - but too late! and dejected
looking back, tracks without seeing there.
Tell, William, is not the only weapon and contact was,
My brother is home to museums, on the fate?

It's time, it's time! our mental anguish
Not worth the world; leave delusions!
Sokroem life under the shadow of solitude!
I'm waiting for you, My late friend -
come; fire magic story
Heart legends revive;
Let's talk about the stormy days of the Caucasus,
At Schiller, the slave, about love.

It's time for me ... Feast, oh friends!
I foresee a welcome rendezvous;
Well, remember the poet Predictions:
promchitsya year, and I'm with you again,
Fulfilled the covenant of my dreams;
promchitsya year, I yavlyusya to you!
About how many tears and many exclamations,
And how many cups, podyatyh to heaven!

And the first full, friends, fuller!
And all to the bottom in honor of our alliance!
bless, jubilant muse,
bless: Long live the Lyceum!
educator, save our youth,
all the honor, and dead and alive,
To bear the appreciation bowl mouth,
Forgetting evil, for good vozdadim.

full, fuller! and the heart is kindled,
Again to the bottom, drink to the last drop!
But who? the other, Guess ...
Hooray, our king! So! drink to the king.
He is a human! it dominates moment.
He is a slave rumors, doubts and passions;
Forgive him unjust persecutions:
He took Paris, he founded the Lyceum.

Feast same, while we are still here!
Alas, our circle by the hour thins;
Who sleeps in a coffin, who tour across siroteet;
Fate looks, we vyanem; days pass;
Invisible sklonyayasy and hladeya,
We are nearing the beginning of its ...
Who should one of us in his old age the day of the Lyceum
Glory have one?

The unfortunate one! Among the new generations
Tiresome and extra guest, and a stranger,
He will remember us and the days of the compounds,
Closing his eyes trembling hand ...
Let he with joy even sad
Then this day for a cup will hold,
As now I, reclusive your disgraced,
His spent without sorrow and worries.

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Alexander Pushkin
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  1. Angelina