This is another Blok poem, Протекли за годами года, roughly Englished by request, based on the requestor's prose translation:
Year after year flew by.
Blindly I lived in what seemed.
And then today I dreamed
That her love for me was a lie.
I was merely a passer-by,
A passer-by, that's clear.
This childish passion died.
She said: Forgive me, dear.
Though love overflows my soul,
Time with others yields bitter dismay.
That song was a bell that tolled
In a dream that I dreamed today.