Here you will find the Poem The Farewell of poet Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov
BENT o'er his sabre, torrents starting From his dim eyes, the bold hussar Thus greets his cherish'd maid, while parting For distant fields of war: 'Weep not, my fair one! O forbear thee! No anguish can those tears remove; For, by my troth and beard, I swear thee, Time shall not change my love. 'That love shall bloom? a deathless blossom, My shield in fight? with sword in hand, And thou, my Lila, in my bosom, What shall that sword withstand? 'Weep not, my fair one! O forbear thee! Those tears can bid no grief depart; And were I faithless, Maid! I swear thee, Anguish would tear my heart! 'Then my good steed would sure betray me, And falter in the battle-fray, In peril's hours refuse t' obey me? My stirrup would give way. 'The sword, my valour's proudest token, When grasp'd, like rotten wood would break; And I should seek thee, spirit-broken, Death's paleness on my cheek.' But the false horseman's steed obey'd him, Gentle and eager still;? his sword, Bright and unbroken, ne'er betray'd him, Though he broke oath and word. The tale of love? the tears which shower'd From Lila's eye? were all forgot; The rose-wreath faded? pale? deflower'd:? Such buds re-blossom not! That maiden's breast of peace he rifles; Then hies him to another's breast; Man's oaths to woman are but? trifles; And love itself? a jest. He serves? secures? and then he slights them; His vows are change? and treachery; For laughing Cupid's arrow writes them Upon the shifting sea.