Now it is night. One Christmas night. All unarmed wars in my little castle slept. Not awake or your brother or your sister. Even your mother now sleeps. Not only woke up zaspalite birds until he came to this polusvetla room.
I am far from you! But let oslepeya if even for a moment your portrait has disappeared from my eyes. It was here – on the table here – to my heart. But where are you? There – prikazniya in Paris, of the magnificent dance theater scene Shan h `Elize. I know that, like in a quiet night you hear footsteps, to see your eyes shining like stars in the winter darkness. I heard that your role in this party and light show is the role of Persian Beauty, captive from Tatar Khan. Be fair and dance. Be a star and siyay. But if vaztorzite and they thanked the audience intoxicated, if the flavor of flowers sent to you, they zamae, you sit in a corner, read my letter and listen to the voice of his father. Continue reading