Текст песни А.А. Фет - Под небом Франции, среди столицы света

Under the sky of France, among the capital of light,
Where so changeable folk wave,
I do not know why the poet's soul is sad
And the secret sorrowfulness of his dream is full.

Some alien sleep all shine rushing past
Under the noise she dreams another, the distant edge;
So the army of the wild Skift is the average of the festive Rome
With a sigh, recalled his northern Danube.

Oh my God! In front of whom our sufferment everywhere
As the stars across the sky are fastened,
Do not let my mouths to eat from bitter bowl
Exhalation of a gloomy drop of burning poison!

1856.

[reads Igor Ilyin]