Ya vechor v lugakh gulyala

Through the silent evening hours,
Musing on my cares, I roved;
And amused me gathering flowers,
Forming wreaths for him I loved.

Pensively I wander’d round,
Till the sun had left the plain;
Many and many a flower I found,
But one flower I sought in vain.

Through the solitary even
Every where that flower I sought;
’Tis a flower as blue as heaven--
’Twas in vain--I found it not.

Mournful I was homeward going,
When--a gentle rivulet nigh,
I espied that flow’ret growing--
Which I pluck’d in ecstasy.

Sweet Forget-me-not! elated,
Tears express’d my bursting thought,
And I sigh’d, and I repeated,
O my friend! Forget-me-not!

Gold and glare to me are dim--
He is dearer far than they;
They can add no charm to him--
‘Maid! I love thee!’ charmer, say!