V. Speys "Philosophy of Love"

Already standing before me shyly,

AВ look sad at the drooping.

The golden Wavy hair are loose,

Soft curls gentle motive.

The night replaced the sunset

Already inВ the shine the moon, sleeps at home.

Only, barely audible, sings the sonata

Moon tale Silence.

Your image is golden…

The transparent sky burns,

On tapes ofВ clouds, gold, throws.

Crystal yellow leaf.

The sunset, dimming, fades away…

My beautiful,В shy,

You bare my shoulder.

Light up pearl shine…

AВ smooth hand touched

The waves of the body…

And, startled, you are tense.

The waves through the fabric are translucent,

Sigh gently under the canvas.

And anxiously, inВ aВ fit ofВ passionate,

Impatiently ripped off he…

So before me, inВ the twilight,

Wavy, slow river, sunset was running.

Through its yellow light streamed

Your image is golden.

Above the fast run ofВ vernal waters

Above the fast run ofВ vernal waters,

Already buds blossomed.

The trees aВ slender arch,

On the branches ofВ small leaves.

The moon inВ the silence ofВ the night stands.

Haystacks cast shadows.

The river glitters inВ itsВ rays

AВ wave ofВ foam is full.

And is aВ girl inВ the waves ofВ the river

Frolicking, as fish slid,

Foam inВ them, the wave drove.

Over the waves the girl lifted,

Under the moon river caressedВ her.

Above the fast run ofВ vernal waters,

Already buds blossomed.

And brighter than the moon’s sky,

Gentle early leaves.

You are no longer withВ me

InВ the depths ofВ fast waters.

Only the memory ofВ you sings:

– “You were once proud of her!

That girl inВ the waves ofВ the river,

What fish slid withВ you,

That foam hid inВ them,

That dance with the wave drove…

You remember, wounded, behindВ her,

Cupid’s arrow in the heart,

Dived! Already near, with her!…

Do girls have a heart singing?!”

Oh! How beautifulВ was!

Spring, loose buds.

And the bank ofВ the river is aВ cliff,

And the first love sprout.

IВ do not believe inВ myth

IВ do not believe inВ myth, no, IВ do not believe.

But, inВ reality, IВ met withВ you.

From my fairy tale you may be inspired.

I feel a breeze in the spring…

Even inВ the fields the grass was not green,

Another sprout did not come toВ life on the crowns.

And IВ saw everything inВ the green ofВ theВ oak,

And IВ heard your singing voice.

IВ hear voice the spring,

IВ recognized him inВ the rustle ofВ foliage.

From my fairy tale he may be inspired,