You are not in love, you have no sorrow, Am I handsome, do I have this charm? Without looking at my face with horror, Hands of yours are laying in my arms… You’re so young, with bared teeth so fervent Neither tender, nor so coarse I am Tell me, do you think of those who cherished Do you think of lips, of hands again? And I know – they vanished like the shadows, Having passed, not touched your fire of soul They caressed your skin in ardent madness As I’m doing in this empty hall As your eyes are closed, you see and feel it, And you maybe think of someone else Neither I love you, and nor I need you Drowning in the distant dearest bells Never name this madness thumb of fortune, Frivolous is hasty this affair Calmly as by chance got in your orchard I would smile while walking out of there And you’ll also leave without render Spreading your unhappy silly days Just do not disturb non-kissed and tender Just don’t beckon the non-burnt, non-chased. And when you would walk the downtown Talking ‘bout the love and sweetest sense Probably, we’ll meet in public garden And again you’ll be so wild and tense. Turning shoulders to another hero Bending to his lips for little kiss You would softly say to me: “Good evening…” I would answer you: “Good evening, miss…” And there’s nothing to disturb my calmness, Nothing would reduce to shiver pain, - Who had loved, won’t feel again this madness, Who had burnt, would never burn again. | 
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