By Nikolai Nekrasov
How you are mild, how humble,
Obedient to be his slave.
But he is cold and sad rather,
With soul, full of indifference.
And earlier... do you remember?
You were so proud, haughty, young.
You played with him, the beauty raving,
Yet he was full with real love!
So autumn sun is cold in blue sky,
Even without any cloud.
But while summer storm burns fire,
By dropping a living beam on ground!
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In russian and in bulgarian translation
by Krasismir Georgiev:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2012/07/28/17
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem