Nikolay Gumilev
A Doubt

Here I'm alone in evening hour calm,
I'll only think of you, I feel no qualm.

I'll take up book but what I'll read is "she",
And soul again is drunk, distraught with thee.

I'll throw myself on old and creaky bed,
The pillow burns... No, I won't sleep, I'll tread.

I'll walk to window, furtive step's a boon,
I'll glance at smoky meadow and the Moon.

There, by the flower beds, you told me "yes",
This yes will stay with me for good, I guess.

But suddenly my conscience will retort,
That you were the most humble to comport.

That your veiled "yes", your trembling, and your kiss
Were just a spring delirium and dreams.

Translated by St. Sol