Last Loveby Fyodor Tyutchev
translation source:V.V. Nabokov
Love at the closing of our days

is apprehensive and very tender.

Glow brighter, brighter, farewell rays

of one last love in its evening splendor.

Blue shade takes half the world away:

through western clouds alone some light is slanted.

O tarry, O tarry, declining day,

enchantment, let me stay enchanted.

The blood runs thinner, yet the heart

remains as ever deep and tender.

O last belated love, thou art

a blend of joy and of hopeless surrender.
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