The flower in my heart,
A bright flower-primrose.
You are that flower, my friend,
Silvery primrose.
Ah, again, my love,
Where the cut resonated,
The flower-primrose blooms!
I listen to the melodies
Of clouds, of lakes, of wind.
I strum, like the strings
Of the steppe, of the clouds, of the wind.
We all ring with our hearts,
We dream of red wine –
Of the sun, of clouds, of wind!
Somewhere there are fairy-tale lands,
And golden summits...
Only the path that leads
To those summits is thorny.
Stars pass and shine,
Waves undulate in the sea –
In rhythms to the summits!
Light is in my heart,
the dance of dreams and dawns.
You are that light, my friend,
A starry dawn.
I exalt your sparkling eyes,
Morning stars of the skies –
Like the dawning of the day!
1917