The dreams play the games in the idylls of Hans,
The tissues are light and the roses.
The image of transparent water? Perhaps
It shows the flight of the souls?
In the Russian paintings there is realism,
A heavy and dark gloomy share,
A smile only angers, and doesn't enrich,
It's not Russophobian occasion,
It truly reflects the severe bottom doom,
Where the soul of many was lieing.
Regret for the people around, who are poor,
And love in hard weekdays is drowning.
But there is another more wonderful peace,
Like the sigh of heavenly freedom:
And this is Austrian aristocracy
In all Hans Zatsk works you may feel it.
But no - it is higher, the exquisite class
In Russia like Pushkin was jolly,
But in those pictures of Hans I see now
Not evil or real, but - the soul!