In the yard the silence is like the grave
There's no whisper till dawns the light
If you only knew how my spirit craves
ror the still of the Moscow night.
Soft the river flows, yet it does not flow,
gGlinting in the moon's silver light
And a song is heard, but unheard below,
in the still of the Moscow night.
Why do you, my dear, seem to look away,
with you head bowed down out of sight?
It's so hard to say, and yet not to say,
how I long for the Moscow night.
Now the sky grows lighter, a new day dawns
So, my darling, let's do what's right
Let us ne'er forget, on this summer morn',
all the still of the Moscow night.