Yakov Petrovich Polonsky. (№ 303911)

My fire in a fog shines;
The sparks extinguished on the fly...
Night we will meet no one;
We'll say goodbye on the bridge.
The night passes - and early
In the steppe far away, my dear,
I'll go with the crowd of Gypsies
For a nomadic tent.
Goodbye shawl with fringe
You host I get:
As it ends, with you
We converged these days.
Can someone tell me the fate predict?
Someone tomorrow, my Falcon,
On my chest will loosen
The node that pulled you?
Remember, if the other
Friend cute loving
Will be singing songs, playing
On my knees you have!