Aleksandr Pushkin

I remember the wonderful moment:
Before me you appeared,
Like a passing vision,
Like a spirit of pure beauty.

In the fatigue of mournful hopelessness,
In the unrest of a noisy restless world,
Echoed in me your tender voice
And your dear features in my dreams.

The years passed. The rebellious gusts of the storm
Scattered the previous dreams,
And I forgot your tender voice,
Your heavenly features.

In the loneliness, in the gloom of exile
stretched quietly my days
Without divinity, without inspiration,
Without tears, without life, without love.

My soul began to awaken:
And lo again you appeared,
Like a passing vision,
Like a spirit of pure beauty.

And my heart is beating in ecstasy,
And once more for it is born anew
Divinity, and inspiration,
And life, and tears, and love.

(translated by Katherine Lawson)

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