The Bronze Horseman

I love you, work of Peter's warrant,
I love your stern and comely face,
The broad Neva's majestic current,
Her bankments' granite carapace,
The patterns laced by iron railing,
And of your meditative night
The lucent dusk, the moonless paling;
When in my room I read and write
Lampless, and street on street stand dreaming,
Vast luminous gulfs, and, slimly gleaming,
The Admiralty's needle bright;
And rather than let darkness smother
The lustrous heavens' golden light,
One twilight glow speeds on the other
To grant but half an hour to night.

Alexander Pushkin
translated by Walter Arndt