Page:Songs of Russia.djvu/56

 A darksome night of winter,
 * Dead silence without end!

Where are you, my beloved,
 * My brave and faithful friend?

Your image, pure and lovely,
 * In spite of bolt and bar,

Before me comes; your fond, clear glance
 * Shines on me like a star.

The long, long years of parting,
 * With grief and longing rife,

The hand weighed down by bondage,
 * Pains of a shattered life—

Not all could dim that image,
 * Your sweet head, golden bright;

Still o’er my thoughts it reigneth,
 * Unchanged its magic might.

In this cold grave, I, living,
 * Am buried from the sun;

Monotonously, mournfully,
 * The years pass, one by one.