In sports white blouse near the grid, a Strand holding hand from the breeze, She stood with a tennis racket And, smiling, squinting slightly. And he watched, unable to break away, Whispering to her a bunch of the most tender words. Then he sighed:- You would all laugh, And I've lost through love! She was everywhere, as to sin: the Eye... And laugh - haughty and heady... He's in a dream heard the laughter. And cursed himself for cowardice even sleep. But the time has come. Tall, proud hour! When he decided that it would rather die Than be a doormat. And this time, No clear answer will not go away! Amid the noisy traffic of the city He walked forward with the gait of a fighter. To win or lose the battle, But never wavered to the end! However, whether something was wrong, whether tripped somewhere on the move, But again blushed and stammered again, And again carrying a solid nonsense. - Well, that's all! - He went out to the Boulevard, took a portrait of his beloved mechanically Sat down on a bench and said sadly: - That's killed "decisive blow"! I suppose you funny. What I'm timid. Tell me, my beautiful star: you love Me? Will mine? Yes or no?- And suddenly I heard:- Yes! What is this nonsense? Ile heart to blame? Or just maple rustled the leaves? He turned around: the flames of sunset She stood behind him. He could swear that this beautiful Haven't seen her ever. - Yes, my tormentor! Yes, silent poor! Yes, a coward! Yes, my favorite! Yes!