Do You Recall That Evening? (Trans. Of Count Alexei Tolstoi)
Do you recall that evening, the murmur of the sea,
The nightingale that sang in the eglantine,
Those scented white acacia sprays
That trembled in your bonnet?
Between the fallen rocks and thickly clustered vines
Where the path was barely six feet wide
We rode together side by side
Our arms entwined with one another.
You were a picture, stooping from your saddle
To pluck the scarlet eglantine
And pat the shaggy ruffled mane
Of the little bay horse that you loved.
Your dress, too light, would not keep straight
And caught upon the branches,
Light-heartedly you laughed to see
So many flowers everywhere—about the horse,
And in your arms, and dancing in your bonnet.
Do you remember the roar of the rain-swelled torrent
That filled the air with its spume and spray,
And how our grief seemed far away,
And how it was forgotten?