The crimson summer now grows pale;
Clear, bright days now soar away;
Hazy mist spreads through the vale,
As the sleeping night turns gray;
The barren cornfields lose their gold;
The lively stream has now turned cold;
The curly woods are gray and stark,
And the heavens have grown dark.
Where are you, my light, Natasha?
No one's seen you, - I lament.
Don't you want to share the passion
Of this moment with a friend?
You have not yet met with me
By the pond, or by our tree,
Though the season has turned late,
We have not yet had a date.
Winter-s cold will soon arrive
Fields will freeze with frost, so bitter.
In the smoky shack, a light,
Soon enough, will shine and glitter.
I won't see my love, - I'll rage
Like a finch, inside a cage,
And at home, depressed and dazed,
I-ll recall Natasha's grace.
To Natasha
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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Poem topics: I love you, away, dark, friend, home, night, passion, summer, tree, winter, frost, moment, clear, bright, cage, Season, gold, bitter, share, shine, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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