We were meeting with you at a sunset,
You were cleaving with paddle a stream.
I've loved you in pure white dress that,
While did lose the subtlety of dream.
So strange there were evening meetings.
There ahead - on the great sandy spit
Evening candles were gleaming so intimate -
Someone thought of the world's loveliness.
The collision, approach, combustion -
That the azure calm does not accept...
We did meet in the evening vague passion
Near shore waters rippled with cane.
No grief, no love, no offences.
All had passed, grown dim and withdrawn...
A slender waist and the voices of requiem,
And your shining in night golden oar.
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Other translation by Alec Vagapov
http: //www.stihi.ru/2010/11/15/2560
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem