Текст песни А. С. Пушкин - Няне

A friend of my days of severe ,
Dove decrepit mine!
Alone in the wilderness of pine forest
For a long time , long have you been waiting for me .
You're at the window of his Svetlitsa
Grieve like the clock ,
And lingered constantly spokes
In your wrinkled hands.
You look at the forgotten collars
On the black remote path ;
Tosca , apprehension , concern
Hourly closely your chest.
What fancies you. . . . . . .
1826