Fet, "Я тебе ничего не скажу"

A work ("To you I will say nothing at all") by this Russian poet.  You can read the original here.

To you I will say nothing at all,
And you I will in no way unease;
At what I so in silence do fall,
Never then will I so much as hint.

All day sleep evening flowers in bliss
Past the grove but the sun will ascend;
All the leaves with such quiet dehisce,
And I hear how my heart's joy extends.

In my breast both so sickly and bent
Humid night rages and blows ... yet I stall.
But you I will in no way unease,
To you I will say nothing at all.

Fet, "Фонтан"

A work ("Fountain") by this Russian poet.  You can read the original here.

 

Night and I, we breathe as two,
Drunken air of lime-like hue,
Wordless then we hear a sound:
Lapping songs our ears surround,
Fountain streams are swaying through.

Blood and thought and body, we
Wait as docile slaves to see:
All shall rise in boldness high
To the limits we espy,
Under fate’s hard-won alee.

Thought is borne and my heart beats,
Squints dispel no darkened sheets,
Once again my heart finds blood,
Reservoirs with my beams flood,
And sweet dawn the night defeats.

Fet, "Вечер"

A work ("Evening") by this Russian poet.  You can read the original here.

Above the river clear it roved  
And rang upon the meadow dark,
And danced aloft the silent grove
The other shore now all aspark.

The dusk and distance cloak each turn, 
Its course upon the western strand;
As golden cloud hems twist and burn,  
The parting smoke of sunswept land.

A hill both hot and damp I see,     
The day's exhale in night's deep gasp,  
The summer lightning, blue and green, 
The brightest fire of our sweet past.