Alexander Pushkin — Rose-maiden...

Rose-maiden, no, I do not quarrel

With these dear chains, they don't demean; 

The nightingale embushed in laurel, 

The sylvan singers' feathered queen, 

Does she not bear the same sweet plight, 

Near the proud rose's beauty dwelling, 

And with her tender anthems thrilling 

The dusk of a voluptuous night.