Saluna, crowned Erato and Venus,
You're my only weapon manish prisoner in his possession,
The estate of peace between Pinda and Citer,
Where he luxuriated Tibull, Mielec and Boys?
You, pampered pet Apollo,
With their playful flute lyre the agree:
Fun romp and nymphs Helikon
Your happy Rocks the Cradle.
Friends love the soul uncovered,
In the silence of feeling, be captivated by beauty -
That's my lot; I am ready to follow him,
But, sweet, have mercy on me,
Do not ask me poems!
Not forever bask in the pleasant Blinded:
Tiresome truth, I later see the light.
The goodness of my heart I believe in the rapture
dream shepnuvshey: you are a poet, —
AND, despise wisdom and advice threat,
With careless indolence strung couplets,
Toys amused himself innocent;
saint Bacchus, I, sober between friends,
Used to, wine sang poems water:
Dreamy Doris and praised and scolded,
Ile friendship wove a wreath, and company zevalo
And sleepy poems dignify prosonkah.
But if I was a long cherished Apollo?
Soul bored Parnassian fun;
Not long I dreamed of dream and glory of the Muses;
AND, strict experience involuntarily aroused,
Asleep between roses, I woke up at Terni,
Had seen, what else is not a genius seal -
Hunting death on babbling rhymes,
Comparing your poems with my, He smiled:
And for me to write full.

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Alexander Pushkin
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