Читать книгу The bronze Horseman / Медный всадник. Книга для чтения на английском языке - Александр Сергеевич Пушкин, Александр Пушкин, Pushkin Aleksandr - Страница 6

For you, queens of my soul, my treasured

Young beauties, for your sake did I

Devote my golden hours of leisure

To writing down, I’ll not deny,

With faithful hand of long past ages

The whispered fables… Take them, pray,

Accept these playful lines, these pages

For which I ask no praise… But stay!

For my reward – I need not seek it —

Is hope: Oh, that some girl should scan,

As only one who’s lovesick can,

These naughty songs of mine in secret!