My voice that is for you the languid one, and gentle, <br />Disturbs the velvet of the dark night's mantle, <br />By my bedside, a candle, my sad guard, <br />Burns, and my poems ripple and merge in flood -- <br />And run the streams of love, run, full of you alone, <br />And in the dark, your eyes shine like the precious stones, <br />And smile to me, and hear I the voice: <br />My friend, my sweetest friend... I love... I'm yours... I'm yours!<br /><br />Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-night-2/
