Mikhail Lermontov

Not with the proud kind of beauty
She charms the animated youth,
And she doesn't drag behind her booty -
The crowd of her slaves, confused.

Her waist isn't one of any goddess,
Her breast does not rise like sea waves,
And nobody calls her gorgeous,
While falling on his knees on earth.

But every movement, every action,
Her features, speeches, smiles  -- all these
So full of life and inspiration,
So full of otherworldly ease.

Her voice pervades the whole soul,
Like memory of happy days,
And heart is sunk in love and dole,
While being shameful of its zest.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, October, 2000
Edited by Dmitry Karshtedt, May, 2001