Here branches of spruces are trembling in wind Here birds are much chirping being worried, Youíre living in forest thatís wild and bewitched From which to escapeís no way though need. Let the bird cherry trees dry like linen in wind, Let with rain well fall down the lilac, Anyway Iíll pick up you from here, trust indeed, To the palace where flutes play just in fact. Your world by the wizards for thousands of years Is covered from my look and light too, And you think there is no more charming than is This wild forest thatís magic all through. Let on leaves will not be in the morning a dew, Let this moon with mistí sky is in quarrel, Anyway I will here from pick finally you To the light tower where view is more well. What weekís day and what concrete hour of day Will you come to me with a caution, When Iíll carry you in my arms far away To where to find is a vain motion. I will steal you if that will to you proper be, Not for nothing Iíve squandered my effort, Do agree on a cottage love as place to live, If are tower and palace not vacant.
© Igor Skryagin. Translation, 2014