The East is silent,
Everywhere a sensitive silence ...
What is it? Sleep or waiting,
Is the day close or far away?
A little bit of a white crown of mountains,
Even in the fog of the forest and doles,
The cities are sleeping and the villages are dozing,
But look up to the sky ...
See: the band is visible,
And, like secretive passion rdeia,
It is brighter, more alive -
It flares up -
Another minute, and in all
The immeasurability of the ethereal
The blessings of the world will be distributed
Victory of the sun ...
Writer: Fedor Tyutchev
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