White Nights of Petersburg

I am forever in love, Petersburg,
With your White Nights.
Every year, at this time,
Leaving all behind, I come to you.

To fall once more into magic captivity
Beneath the endless, unsleeping sky.
A time of secrets, of romance
On the Neva's misty shores.

This steady, pale, unwavering light
Seeps into the souls of people,
And objects cast no shadows.

The White Nights, with their enchanting glow,
As if strip from people and things
The dark cloak beneath which
Secrets and hidden thoughts lie sleeping.

Petersburg, on those White Nights
When I walk your streets
And pass through your sunken courtyards,
I see clearly the image of a beautiful woman—

Who sheds her severe black dress
And stands unashamed
In a fine white chemise,
Barely veiling her slender legs.

It is just an image,
Painted by the White Petersburg Night.

To understand
What I am telling you,
You must simply love Petersburg
And feel the pulse of the White Nights.

You must simply love Petersburg
And feel the pulse...
The pulse of the White Nights.
Just love, and the pale, unwavering light.