Stillness in the grove, not a rustling sound
Softly shines the moon clear and bright
Dear, if you could know how I treasure so
this most beautiful Moscow night.
Lazily the brook like a silvery stream,
ripples in the light of the moon
|: [And/Yes] a song afar fades as in a dream
in this night that will end too soon :|
Dearest, why so sad, why the downcast eyes,
and your lovely head bent so low?
Oh, I mustn't speak, though I'd love to say
that you've stolen my heart away.
Promise me, my love, as the dawn appears
and the darkness turns into light,
|: [that/say] you'll cherish, dear, through the passing years
this most beautiful Moscow night :|