My last tribute to my first unforgettable love
I must believe, my first love went to heaven,
Where all the first loves dwell.
I must consider the date of December the seventh
More than some mocking fate's knell.
Peter's city stretched its domes in height
And the Neva carried its regal waters in disdain
For only two of us, in sunlight and in rain
Claiming love's indisputable right.
The temple built from our hands, and lips, and words
Appeared to be too fragile to withstand
Temptations of my outside world
And your wild Caucasian mistrust.
Still, there is a good old ending to the story -
We are separately happy and in love,
And these words freely flow in might and glory
To commemorate my unforgettable first love.