Works

I know in your song, dzhigit, there is A flame and love to the native land.

I dreamt of my daughter. She came and stroked my forelock with her hand.

The exhaustion of prison is taking its toll. All the days and the nights arc anguish.

One day a young enchantress told her suitor, A prince whose passion nothing could allay:

I am healthy again. And my tired brain Is free of oppressive gloom.

Forgive me, Motherland, whose name Was on my lips in bitter strife,

He gave his oath with all his heart, With all his soul - and on his horse,

Once on the steps of a house There stood a boy right in front of the door,

Once upon a time there were two king's daughters lived in a bower near the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie. And Sir...

There was, some time ago, a gentleman who was very rich. He had fine town and country houses, his dishes and plates...

CHERRY HONEY, with her father and mother, and a half-score of brothers and sisters, lived in a little hut at Trereen,...

Childe Rowland and his brothers twain Were playing at the ball.

The verdict was announced today: He Is sentenced to death.

If they bring news to you about me, If they say: «He is tired, he is lagging behind, he fell down»,

One fine summer's day Earl Mar's daughter went into the castle garden, dancing and tripping along. And as she played...

When with the light of dawn I am awaking, Or when I sink into sleep's dark abyss,

Our gardener is a restless old man. Me is, perhaps, ninety years old.

SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle. FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO

We said good-bye, and the dearly loved hands Gave me a handkerchief with an embroidered edge.

Hands wrought under the dark veil… “What is it that makes you so pale and faint?”