So again we triumph!
Again we do not come!
Our speeches silent,
Our words, dumb.
Our eyes that have not met
Again, are lost;
And only tears forget
The grip of frost.
A wild-rose bush near Moscow
Knows something of
This pain that will be called
Immortal love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So again we triumph! Again we do not come! Our speeches silent, Our words, dumb. great poem. tony