РиЛ, Посвящение - пер. А. С. Пушкина

For you - the true queens of my soul,
For you - the beauties, only you,
With my firm hand I Iightly wrote
The tales of the old days anew
During the fluent whisper talking
About this, about that
During the golden leisure hours;
The work frivolous now take!
Without wish to be praiseworthy,
I'm happy with a chance, a hope,
That one day, once a loving virgin,
Would look in secret at my songs.


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