Nikolai Stepanovich Gumil

1886 - 1921 / Russia


The moon climbs graciously the evening heavens,
And there affectionately rests her beauty.

The evening breeze is canvassing the lakeshore,
To spread the kisses to the happy water.

Oh, how heavenly would be a union
Of people who are destined for each other.

Yet those who are destined for each other
Can rarely, alas, enjoy their union.
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