In Tsarskoye Selo
Through the alley the horses are ridden,
Long are waves of their manes, combed thoroughly.
Oh, my town, with puzzles such captivating.
I'm sad, merged in my ardent loving.
It is strange to remember the anguish
Of my soul in my dying ravings.
And today I'm only a plaything,
As my friend - the rosy parrot.
My chest isn't clutched with a presentiment,
If you wish - look in my eyes so clear.
I don't like only hour pre-sunset,
Wind from sea and the words: go, leave.
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In russian:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2011/02/18/1214
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What an interesting piece