---

I feel my heart grieves over you.

It's knock becomes more often

in impulses of agony.

And it's images and recollections

Only about the lost love

I haven't found consolation

And the first spring without you

Is not so beautiful

so pleasant as before;

It's flowers are not that were before

Sweet wine seemed bitter poison

And then, in general,

for what is it necessary,

When my grief is lying inside me

And there is no sense at all,



I feel my body beats convulsively

And kills me with a flame of suffering

My eyes are filled with burning tears.

I feel I die. Because

There is no you more.