Dream- Lermontov
In the midday heat in the valley of Dagestan
I lay motionless with lead in my chest,
The deep wound still smoked
Drop by drop my blood leaked out.
I lay alone on the sand of the valley.
Cliffs crowded above me,
And the sun scorched their tawny peaks
And scorched me- but I slept like the dead.
And I saw the shining lights
Of evening feast in my homeland.
Between young women crowned with flowers
I heard a merry talk of me.
But one did not engage in cheerful conversation,
She sat alone in thought,
Her young soul was burdened in a sad dream,
God only knows by what means.
And she dreamed of the valley in Dagestan,
The corpse that lay upon the ground familiar,
In his chest, a steaming, blackened wound,
And the cooling blood was flowing in a stream.
