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Aleksandr Pushkin

To...

I just recall this wondrous instant: You have arrived before my face -- A vision, fleeting in a distance, A spirit of the pure grace. In pine of sorrow unfair, In worldly harassment and noise I dreamed of your beloved air And heard your quiet, gentle voice. Years passed. The tempests' rebel senders Have scattered this delightful dream, And I forgot this sound tender And how heavenly you seemed. In gloomy dark of isolation, My days were gradually moved, Without faith and inspiration, Without tears, life, and love. My soul awoke with decision: And you again came as a blest, Like an enchanting fleeting vision, A spirit of the pure grace. My heart beats on in resurrection -- It has again for what to strive: Divinity and inspiration, Life, tears, and eternal love. © Copyright, 1996 Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, December 1995, Edited by Dmitry Karshtedt, July 1996.

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