Where have you gone, o golden days of my spring? What does the day coming has in store for me? It escapes my eyes, it is hidden! Shall I fall to the deadly arrow, or will it pass by? All for better, there is a pre-determined time For life and for sleep Blessed is a day of simple tasks And blessed is the day of troubles.
Will the day beam shine in the morning And the bright day shall reign And I, well, will I, perhaps, will descent Into mysterious darkness of my fatal tomb? And the memory of a strange poet will fall into Abyss The world shall forget me, but you, you, Olga! Tell me, will you, the maiden of beauty, come to shed a tear Over the early urn And think "he loved me, he devoted to me The gloomy dawn of a troubled life!" Ah Olga, I did love you, To you alone I devoted The gloomy dawn of my troubled life Yes Olga, I did love you!
My wonderful friend, my dear friend, Come, for I am your husband, etc.