Every night, someone comes from the shore to the waters of Van, and without a boat, in the middle of the fog, boldly swims to the island.
With his mighty shoulders he cuts through the bosom of waters, attracted by the rays that send a distant beacon.
All around the stream, hissing, spins, runs after the swimmer, But the fearless is not afraid of neither dangers nor troubles.
What are the threats of the night to him, Foam, water, wind, darkness? Like loving eyes, A lighthouse is burning in front of him!
* * *
Every night, sparks of light beckon with the caress of secret spells: Every night, dressed in darkness, Tamar is waiting for him to come to her.
And with his mighty shoulders he plows through the bosom of the waters, attracted by the rays that send a distant beacon.
He swims towards happiness, Bravely fights the wave. And Tamar, overcome with passion, Waits for him in the darkness of the night.
The wait is not in vain...Closer, closer...here it is! A moment of bliss! A moment of goodbye! Sweet sacraments of a heavenly dream!
Quiet. Only the waters splash, Only, full of pure enchantment, The stars murmur and tremble For the shameless Tamar.
And again, to the depths of Van, Someone is coming from the shore. And without a boat, in the middle of the fog, He is sailing away from the island.
And with fear, Tamar remains alone Above the water, Watching and listening to how the angry wave beats.
Tomorrow - again expectations, The lighthouse sparkles in the same way, The same wonderful moment of meeting, The same caresses, the same darkness.
But the cruel enemy discovered the Secret of loving hearts: The distant light was extinguished, the swimmer was caught in darkness.
Evil people trampled the brightly shining fire, The night skies are silent, The gaze searches in vain for light.
It won’t sparkle like before, Hello dear Mayak, - And in deceptive hope it beats and beats with the wave.
The wind whispers incomprehensibly, Steam swirls above the water, And sighs barely intelligibly, A faint exclamation: “Oh, Tamar!”
The sounds of crying, the sounds of laughter... The waves caress the rock, And, like a fading echo, “Ah, Tamar!” sounds in the darkness.
At dawn the waves rose and a pale corpse rushed in, and a silent reproach froze: “Ah, Tamar!” among dead lips.
Years have passed since then, The island is full of the same charms, It looks gloomily at the waters and is called Akhtamar.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru