You will remain in my memory,
You tranquil pines, and such things
As the nocturnal Pakhra,
The smoke o'er the distant raft there.
You will remain in my heart
My suburban Moscow springs,
Whatever happens to you,
And may happen to me hereafter.
Maybe you'll meet some girl
More lovely, more wise, or more dear.
Maybe my heart
Will forget about its first love.
But like pines
with their roots
We are knit with our Motherland here:
Our hearts from her to remove!