Να και η αγγλική μετάφραση που βρήκα έτοιμη, γιατί βαριέμαι να το μεταφράσω στα ελληνικά.
When in my arms...
When in my arms your slender form
I take, perhaps a shade too boldly,
And words of love, impetuous, warm,
Pour out to you, in silence, coldly
From my unshaked-for, rash embrace
You free yourself, and for an instant
A smile appers upon your face,
At once mistrustful, wan and distant.
Too promptly has your memory stored
Of all my errant ways the rumour -
I speak, and you are out of humor,
I plead my cause, and you are bored...
O how I curse the sweet diversions
And pleasures of my wicked youth,
Love's nightly meetings and excursions
To some dark garden nook or path,
The verses born to stimulate
And stir the blood, the fond caresses
Bestowed too soon by trusting lasses,
And their laments that came too late.
Translated by I.Zheleznova
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