Aleksandr Pushkin (1799-1837)

I've lived to bury my desires,
And see my dreams corrode with rust;
Now all that's left are fruitless fires
That burn my empty heart to dust.

Not all of me is dust. Within my song,
safe from the worm, my spirit will survive

"I Loved You..."

I loved you: and, it may be, from my soul
The former love has never gone away,
But let it not recall to you my dole;
I wish not sadden you in any way. 

I loved you silently, without hope, fully,
In diffidence, in jealousy, in pain;
I loved you so tenderly and truly, 
As let you else be loved by any man. 

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