By Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin br br (To Helen Ushakova in her album) br br br You are so naughty by the nature, br For you it was biassed for long, br And now our endless praising br Seems for you like a tiresome ode. br You know by yourself, indeed, br That you are worth to love; br That you by gentle look are like Armide; br And Sylfide - by your body light. br Your scarlet lips are like the rose br Of harmony, which's so close... br And our rhymes, and our prose br Look like for you as a simple noise.... br br But memoirs of your bright beauty br Touch our hearts and captive them, br And negligently lines I'm putting br To your album with all respect. br Perhaps, there'll arrive a notion br To your mind all about singer, br Who sang for you, when no border br Existed round the Presnya field...