M.Lermontov, The Dream - Translation (Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

At noon heat in the valley of the Dagestan,
I laid, shot by a lead in breast,
Immovable I was, the deep wound that time
Was smoking, blood oozed out red.

I laid alone on the sand of valley;
The ledges of the rocks round me were squeezing,
And sun was burning their tops, such yellow,
And burned me, but I was deadly sleeping.

And I dreamed all about feast,
Eternal, shining in my native land:
There among the young wives cheerful
Was going a talk about my fate.

Without joining to this light talking,
One of them sat alone in corner,
And pensively she dreamed about former
And some elusive things, been over.

She dreamed about the deep valleys
In Dagestan, where the body,
Familiar to her was deadly laying -
Wounded in breast with blood, out flowing...

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Such a prophetic poem about the destiny of poet....