那里，罗纳河湍急的河水在翠绿的河岸之间流淌;那里长着芬芳的桃金娘，罗纳河映着它们的绿;在那里，葡萄园爬满山岭，山谷遍布，金黄的香橼芬芳弥漫，芭蕉仰起了头。站在那里，像沉没的白昼之主，在微笑的海岸上，他长久地注视着海水的嬉戏，把他的忧愁都想完了;俄罗斯英雄?被战争偷走了，老头子的荣誉;他与远方的朋友分离，独自在那里游荡。“啊,滚!他唱道，“你们水滚吗?在你的荣耀中流淌; Your waves shall waken on my soul The memory of the Don. My days pass by without an aim, Amidst life's busy roar; For what is life without its fame, Or the bright world?? 'tis poor. 'Now nature wears its spring-tide dress, The sun shines splendidly; All liberty and loveliness? O! why am I not free? O roll, ye waters! rage, thou Rhone! And waken, as ye roll, The thoughts of my domestic zone Within my troubled soul. 'The maidens here are fair and bright, Their glance is full of fire; And their all-graceful smiles of light Might satisfy desire 'But what is love in foreign lands, Or joy?? I only know The joy and love that bless our sands, Midst forests and midst snow. 'Give me my freedom? let me tread Once more my country's strand; With frost and storm all overspread? My home? my father-land! Deep is the snow around my door; But give me my own steed, And day and night, the mountains o'er, Me to my home he'll lead. 'At home, there's one who sits and keeps The memory of her love; And often to the window creeps, And pours her prayers above. She guards the thoughts of him whose mind Guards every thought of her; She pats the horse I left behind? How privileged to be there! 'O roll, thou Rhone! ye waters roll? Rush in your glory on; Your waves still waken in my soul The memory of the Don. Come, winds! come hither from the north, Come, in your freshness, come: And thou bright pole-star blazen forth, Memento of my home!' So spake the prisoner, as he turn'd To Lyons his tired eye, When long in exile's chains he mourn'd His hapless destiny. He sang? the Rhone roll'd proudly on, The moon oft kiss'd its tide; And oft on Lyons' turrets shone The sun in all his pride.