Pushkin Poems - Poems about Pushkin

Habit is Heaven's tame redress: it tugs down the skirts of Happiness. —Alexander Pushkin, translation by Michael R. Burch Till, conquered by gusts of cold air, as Winter approaches, I find, on a branch that is otherwise bare, trembling, a leaf left behind. —Alexander Pushkin, translation by Michael R. Burch Whom to love, to trust and treasure, who won’t betray us in the end? Whose...

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Alexander Pushkin playwright &poet considered the most talented Russian yet He started in his mid teens & explored thr social activist scene...

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our dying kiss two babies were born with flying wings...

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I Loved You by Alexander Pushkin loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch 1. I loved you once … perhaps I love you still … perhaps such erratic flickerings remain. But please don’t let my feelings trouble you; I do not wish to cause you further pain. I loved you … thus the hopelessness I knew … the jealousy, the shyness and the pain, resulted in...

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I Loved You by Alexander Pushkin English translation by Michael R. Burch I loved you ... perhaps I love you still ... perhaps for a while such emotions may remain. But please don’t let my feelings trouble you; I do not wish to cause you further pain. I loved you ... thus the hopelessness I knew ... The jealousy, the diffidence, the pain resulted...

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There is a country far away, though today Not so far, but wide as the eye can see, Though a place you would not like to stay; A place once valued in time and history, Where stories were told, the people bold, Now grown tired, now grown old; And people asked how this came about, The future seemed bright without a...

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(Honor Sent To Great Bard, Alexander Pushkin Second Tribute Series, Fifth Poet) (1.) Poetry Gave Its Deep Rich Brilliance Unto Thee Bard, what bright Light graced thy soft serenades In late midnight hours, moonlight streaming down Alas! With Time's fleeing flight, thy fame fades Yet thy verse treasures gave thee world renown. Bard, thy prowling ship upon open seas Delivered thy Art, to this...

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I Loved You by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin translation by Michael R. Burch I loved you ... perhaps I love you still ... perhaps for a while such emotions may remain. But please don’t let my feelings trouble you; I do not wish to cause you further pain. I loved you ... thus the hopelessness I knew ... The jealousy, the diffidence, the pain resulted...

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The Meandering Brook ******************* the brook meanders across the moorland, dividing heather and bracken with banks adorned with wetland flora, looking grand. sandy patches, fauna can fill their tanks. birds of many feathers' quench their thirst, bathe. water shrew, get lucky, a chance to gaze. a dipper where the bank widens; washed rock. the brook earns its reputation, don't knock! it gurgles, babbles, the midges...

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I loved you so, and maybe feeling yet didn't fade away in soul, but let it do not make your thrilling I do not want you sad at all. I loved so hopeless and so silent, I was so jealous and so shy, I loved you tenderly and violent, let someone love you so like I....

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There're frost and sun, the day is fairy, You're sleeping yet, sweetheart, you're merry, It's time, wake up, my pretty lass, Open your eyes that are so tender towards Aurora and her splendour Rise like the Northern star to bless. The eve, remember, evil blizzard, Sky's full of mist, sky was imprisoned, the moon was just like yellow stain, It shone through clouds...

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I can remember time of wonder when you appeared before my eyes like fleeting vision like a thunder, pure queen of beauty and sunrise. In tiresome longing of despair in noisy troubles of ado your tender voice was in my air I saw sweet dreamings about you. Years passed. A riot of rebellion dispelled these dreamings of the past I heard your tender voice...

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I love you, so I'm getting mad, let my ado and shame are vainly And all my foolish thoughts aren't sanely in feet of yours I bow my head. It's not my face, it's not my age, It's time to be just little smarter, I see my symptoms and they change my soul with lovesick, they are harder. I yawn without you...

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In desert that is poor and dull On soil that is scorched with fire The Upas-tree stands as a hull as guard who's one who knows no tire. The prairie's nature had a thirst begetting Him in day of fury, It filled dead green of branches first, It poisoned roots these give no curing. The poison flows through pale bark, Noon smelts with heat...

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In pale sunshine as Winter bids farewell A pretty face appears to spark a smile Of golden dreams to cast a lighter spell And thoughts of spring in languid minds compile. On peaceful mornings, bird song finds its voice As snow begins to melt as if by choice It knows it's time is done as Spring is near When daffodils in bloom...

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