by Aleksander Pushkin1799-1837
Amidst the noisy ball, in Hell Of everyday distress, I've seen you, but the secret's veil Was covering your face. Your fair eyes were sad and bright, And voice was so sweet, As sound of a pipe apart Or murmur of the sea. I've liked your fine and slender waist, And thoughtful image, whole, And sound of your voice - it nests Forever in my soul... When tired, in my lone nights, I lie down to pause - And see your beautiful, sad eyes, And hear your merry voice. And sad, I fall asleep to see My dreams that run above... I'm sure not whether I love thee - But, maybe, I'm in love.