The Woods shed their purple clothes,
The dry fields are shining with silver frost,
This day seems reluctant,
Then he slipped behind the mountain and hid.
Fire, burn it, in my desolate corner,
And you, wine, Qiu Han's partner,
Pour the happiness of drunkenness into your chest,
I want to forget the deep pain for a while.
It's deserted around: not a single friend.
You can talk to him about your long separation,
Or you can hold hands warmly,
Raise a glass to wish each other long-term health and prosperity.
I drink alone; In my opinion.
I call on every friend in vain,
No familiar footsteps can be heard outside the door.
I didn't expect them to appear in my heart.
I drink alone; Today, on the Neva River,
My friends will also mention my name. ...
But do many of you have parties?
Who did you read that didn't put the numbers together?
Who betrayed this gratifying tradition?
Who was taken away from you by the cruel society?
Who is silent in the cry of brothers?
Who didn't come? Who is the invisible man?
Ah, he's not coming. His eyes are burning.
We can play guitar. Curly hair singer:
He has slept quietly in Italy.
Myrtle flower; And friends who carved stone tablets
I also forgot to draw some words of my motherland.
On this Russian grave,
When the vagrants in the north passed through that foreign country,
Or feel the warmth and melancholy of the countryside.
You are sitting at a friend's party,
Do active people like exotic skies so much?
Have you passed the hot equator again?
What about the permanent ice in the North Sea?
The road to happiness! ..... from the threshold of middle school.
When you step on a boat, you never take care of yourself.
Your road has been paved on the sea ever since,
Oh, children loved by storms and waves!
When you roam, you can keep
The first habit of beautiful youth:
Can you imagine in the rough waves?
Playfulness in middle school;
You contact us from overseas,
Your young heart only remembers us;
You repeatedly said, "Perhaps, the fate of seeking knowledge."
We are doomed to go our separate ways forever! "
My friend, our contact is wonderful!
It is free, carefree, firm and eternal.
It's as inseparable as the soul,
Under the protection of the friendly muse, they reproduce interactively.
No matter how fate plunders us,
Wherever happiness takes us,
We will not change: the whole world.
It's all strange to us, except Huangcun.
Thunder chased me from place to place.
I am entangled in the net of fate;
Tired, I shook my head warmly.
In the embrace of new friendship ...
I pleaded with melancholy and excitement:
With my early expectations and trust in people,
Made new friends wholeheartedly;
However, I got the cold shoulder.
Now, in this forgotten mountain village,
In a secluded place surrounded by snow and cold,
Unexpectedly, there are sweet comforts waiting for me to taste:
You three, my soul mates,
I hugged here. Oh, my Pushkin,
You should visit this frustrated poet's hut first,
You gave me warmth during my miserable exile,
You turned it into high school.
Ah, Gorchakov, always a happy man!
I praise you, precious cold light.
Didn't make you betray your free heart,
You are still an honest man and treat your friends as always.
Fate has given us different paths;
As soon as I entered life, I immediately parted ways.
I can't believe that on this country road,
We met and hugged like brothers.
When the wrath of fate raged on me,
Like a homeless orphan with no friends,
I hung my tired head in the storm,
I'm waiting for you, the soothsayer who serves the god of poetry,
There you are, my Dwight!
Son of leisure inspiration, your voice,
Light the fire of my long-sleeping heart,
You make me excited to celebrate my fate.
Since childhood, the soul of poetry has been stirring in the chest.
We have all experienced that strange enthusiasm;
Since childhood, two muses have been flying towards us.
Their caress makes our fate sweeter;
However, I fell in love with applause and sang poems for it.
You are proud to be a poet and soul;
I throw away my talent and life at will,
You cultivate your own poetry in silence.
Serving the muse is not suitable for noise,
The pursuit of beauty should be lofty and solemn;
But the young people cunningly suggested to us,
What makes us happy is all kinds of noisy dreams. ...
When we woke up-but it was too late!
Looking back in dismay: it's just empty.
Riheim, aren't you and me?
Tell me, poetry and fate are brothers.
Enough, enough! This world is no longer worth it.
Let's put aside the pain in our hearts for the time being.
Those delusions live in the countryside!
Ah, late friend, I was waiting for you to come-
Come on, use your passionate and charming story.
Activate my inner behavior;
Let's start with the days of the Caucasus War.
Talk about Schiller, fame and fortune, love.
Here I am ... friends, let's have a feast!
I have foreseen being with you.
Please remember a poet's prediction,
In another year, I will be reunited with you.
My dream imperial edict is about to be promulgated;
In another year, I will appear in front of you again!
Ah, how many tears, how many cheers,
How many glasses are held high in the sky!
Fill the first cup, my friend. Fill it up!
Let's drink to our unity!
Bless us, happy muse,
Bless it, long live Huangcun Middle School!
Cherish the glory of our young teachers.
Ah, some are still alive, and some are dead.
Let's raise our glasses and thank all of us.
Forget resentment, for their gifts.
Fill it up! Fill it up again! The heart is burning,
Drink up again, not a drop left, cheers!
Who is this for? Ah, friend, guess. ...
Ura, for our tsar! Yes, dedicated to the tsar!
He is also a human being, and he is dominated by the times.
Become a slave to speech, suspicion and lust;
Let's forgive his unjust persecution.
He founded this middle school, and he conquered Paris.
Cheers while we are still alive!
Alas, our number is decreasing all the time;
Some people are gone, others are wandering in the distance,
Fate watched us wither; Time flies;
We unconsciously bend down to feel cold,
Gradually, we are close to the place where life originated. ...
Ah, who will live long, in old age,
You want to celebrate this day alone?
Unfortunate friend! In the new generation,
He became an annoying, strange and unnecessary guest.
Think of us day after day and be reunited with us.
He will cover his eyes with trembling hands. ...
I hope he is happy, although a little depressed,
Kill the day in a glass of wine,
Like me now, a fallen hermit,
Pass without complaint or concern.