Текст песни Александр Пушкин - Демон

In the days when I was new
All impressions of being -
And the eyes of the maidens, and the noise of Dubrov,
And at night the nightingale singing, -
When lofty feelings
Freedom, Glory and Love
And inspired art
So much worried about the blood -
Hours of Hope and Enjoyment
Longing for a sudden fall,
Then some evil genius
He began to secretly visit me.
Our meetings were sad:
His smile, wonderful look,
His stinging speeches
Poured cold poison into the soul.
Inexhaustible slander
He tempted providence;
He called the beautiful dream;
He despised inspiration;
He did not believe love, freedom;
He looked mockingly at life -
And nothing in all of nature
He did not want to bless.