The 10 May.
I just arrived in Stavropol, she dear Sophie M, I reparts the same day for the expedition with Stolipine Mongo. wish me: happiness and a slight wound, this is all that one can wish me better. I hope this letter finds you still in St. Petersburg and that when you read it I go up to the breach Черкей. As you have deep knowledge of geography I do not urge you to look at the map, to know where it is; but to help your memory I will say that it is between the Caspian and Black Sea, just south of Moscow, and just north of Egypt, especially close enough to Astrakhan, you know so well.
I do not know if it will last; but during my trip I was possessed by the demon of poetry, the same, worms. I filled half a book that gave me Odoevsky, which probably took me happiness; I went up to make French, – oh! Depravity! If you want I will write them here; they are very attractive to first to; and in the kind of Parny, if you know it.
I wait in the dark plain;
In the distance I see a shadow whitewash,
A shadow, that gently comes ...
Eh not! - false hope! –
This is an old willow, that balance
His withered trunk and shiny.
I am leaning, long and I listen;
I think I hear on the road
The sound, not a light product ...
Non, it's nothing! It is in the foam
The sound of a leaf, that pushes
The fragrant night wind.
Filled with bitter sadness,
I lie in the thick grass
And fall asleep in a deep sleep ...
Suddenly, tremblant, I awake:
His voice spoke in my ear,
His mouth kissed my forehead.
You can see how this salutary influence had on me spring, enchanted season, where there is mud to the ears, and the least amount of flowers. - So, I leave tonight: I confess that I am quite tired of all these journeys which seem to extend to eternity. - I wanted to write even a few people
Petersburg, including M-me Smirnoff, but I do not know if that rash actions would be agreeable, That is why I refrain. If you answer me, talking to Stavropol, в штаб генерала Грабе - I arranged for you sent my letters - bye; my respects to please all your own; and yet farewell - you wear well, Be happy and do not forget me.
I just arrived in Stavropol, dear m-lle Sophie, and I sent the same day the expedition with Mongo Stolypin. Wish me: happiness and lung injury, this is the best, I can only wish. I hope, that this letter finds you still in St. Petersburg and at that moment, when you read it, I will storm the Cherkio. Since you have a deep knowledge of geography, I do not suggest you look at a map, to find out, where is it; but, to help your memory, I tell you, it is located between the Caspian and Black Sea, a little to the south of Moscow, and a little to the north of Egypt, and above all quite close to Astrakhan, which you know so well.
I dont know, whether it will continue; but during my journey I took possession of the demon of poetry, or - poems. I filled half of the book, which gave me Odoyevski, what, probably, It brings me happiness. I went so far, that began to compose French verses, - about the fall! If you will allow, I write them to you here; they are very beautiful for the first poems in the genre of Men, if you know it.