Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov

Here you will find the Poem The Dream of poet Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov

The Dream

In noon's heat, in a dale of Dagestan
With lead inside my breast, stirless I lay;
The deep wound still smoked on; my blood
Kept trickling drop by drop away. 
On the dale's sand alone I lay. The cliffs
Crowded around in ledges steep, 
And the sun scorched their tawny tops
And scorched me - but I slept death's sleep.
And in a dream I saw an evening feast
That in my native land with bright lights shone;
Among young women crowned with flowers, 
A merry talk concerning me went on.
But in the merry talk not joining, 
One of them sat there lost in thought, 
And in a melancholy dream
Her young soul was immersed - God knows by what.
And of a dale in Dagestan she dreamt;
In that dale lay the corpse of one she knew;
Within his breast a smoking wound showed black, 
And blood ran in a stream that colder grew.