Valentina

All in it harmony, all marvel, All higher than the world and passions; It reposes bashfully In beauty of solemn to it; It by a circle itself looks: There are not rivals it, there are not friends; Beautiful women our a pale circle disappears In its refulgency . Wherever you made haste, Though on a love appointment, What in a heart you did not feed secret dreaming But meet with it, embarrassed, you Suddenly will stop involuntarily, Venerating bogomol'nyy Before the sacred object of beauty...