Spell

ABOUT, if it is true, that night,
When buried alive,
And from heaven lunar rays
Slip on the rocks coffin,
ABOUT, if it is true, what then
Emptying quiet grave -
I call shadow, I'm waiting Leily:
To me, my friend, here, here!

Yavys, beloved shadow,
How were you before parting,
faintly, cold, as a winter day,
Distorted last meal.
come, like a distant star,
As a light breath of sound il,
Or like a terrible vision,
I do not care, here! here!..

Call on you not to,
To reproach people, whose anger
I killed my friend,
Or to come to know the secrets of the grave,
Not in order, that sometimes
Tormented with doubts ... but yearning
I want to say, everything that I love,
That all I am your: here, here!

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Alexander Pushkin
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