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O krasnyj mir, gde ja votshche rascvel,
prosti navek! S obmanutoj dushoju
ja schast'ja zhdal - mechtam konec;
pogiblo vse, umolkni, lira;
skorej, skorej v obitel' mira,
bednyj pevec, bednyj pevec!
Chto zhizn', kogda v nej net ocharovan'ja?
Blazhenstvo znat', k nemu letet' dushoj,
no propast' zret' mezh nim i mezh soboj;
zhelat' vsjak chas i trepetat' zhelan'ja...
O pristan' gorestnykh serdec,
mogila, vernyj put' k pokoju,
kogda zhe budet vzjat toboju
bednyj pevec, bednyj pevec?
Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky |
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Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky
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