A mouth like blood, green eyes,

And a smile, haggardly evil …

Oh, there’s no hiding it, I see:

You’re the pale moon’s beloved.

Even in daytime, over you did not weaken

The night legends of distant childhood,

That is why you are no one’s from birth,

That is why you have loved since the crib.

O, how many you’ve loved, a poet:

Those dark-eyed and lightly fair,

The arrogant, the tender, morose,

Inspiring your own delirium in them.

But oblivion, is it in the bosom?

Are there spells in earthly voices?

Disappearing as smoke in the heavens,

They were leaving, and leaving again.

An eternal guest on a foreign shore,

You’re tormented by the silver horn …

Oh, there is much I know about,

But from whence I cannot tell.

That’s why for you the spark in the glass

And the drunkenness of pleasure are pale:

You’re the Maiden Moon’s beloved,

One of those whom she has adopted.