«A searing sun, a Daghestani valley... / I lie at noon, a bullet in my breast; / My steaming wound is deep, no strength to rally / And drops of blood keep oozing from my chest. I lie alone, the valley's sandy edges / Are crowded in by looming cliffs so steep, / The sun burns down upon...»
«The glen of Daghestan, at noon, was hot and gleaming; / I lay on sand with lead sent to my heart, / My deadly wound was deep and easily steaming; / And, drop by drop, was oozing out blood. I lay on sand of this small glen, alone; / High cliffs surrounded my motionless head. / The sun ...»
«When I often stay a motley crowd in, / When before my eyes, as in an awful dream, / To humming orchestras and dances, / And foolish whispering of speeches learnt by eart, / Flit figures of the people lost of heart, / And masques with a false politeness; / When my hands are touched, by an...»
«For all, for all! I thank you, o my dear: / For passions' deeply hidden pledge, / For poison of a kiss, and stinging of a tear, / Abuse by friends, and enemies' revenge; / For soul's light, extinguished in a prison, / For things by which I was deceived before. / But do not give me any re...»