'I've lost a delicate cameo,
Somewhere on the Neva's shore.
I pity the charming Roman girl,'
You said to me, almost in tears.

But why, fair Georgian beauty,
Stir up the dust on a sacred tomb?
Another downy snowflake
Melted on her eyelid's fan.

You bowed your gentle neck.
Alas, no cameo, no Roman girl.
I pity the tawny Tinotine -- virgin
Rome on the Neva's shore.