Alexander Pushkin — To Chaadayev

Not long did youth's vain hopes delude us,

Its dreams of love and prideful fame.

They briefly, fleetingly pursued us,

Then passed like mist and no more came.

But still we chafe, our hearts afire,

Under the yoke of tyranny,

And, heedful of our country's plea,

Her true deliverance desire.

We freedom wait with all the fever,

The hidden ache and eagerness

That 'fore the hour of promised bliss

Consume the yong and ardent lover.

While freedom's flame within us lives,

While we by honour's voice are guided,

To Russia, comrade, let us give

Our spirits whole and undivided.

Dear friend, have faith: the wakeful skies

Presage a dawn of wonder - Russia

Shall from her age-old sleep arise,

And despotosm impatient crushing,

Upon its ruins our names incise!

Translated by I.Zheleznova.