A poem by Alexander Pushkin – Pouchkine, Pooshkin (1799-1837), in English translation
Under the blue skies of her native land
She languished and began to fade…
Until surely there flew without a sound
Above me, her young shade;
But there stretches between us an uncrossable line.
In vain my feelings I tried to awaken.
The lips that brought the news were made of stone,
And I listened like a stone, unshaken.
So this is she for whom my soul once burned
In the tense and heavy fire,
Obsessed, exhausted, driven out of my mind
By tenderness and desire!
Where are the torments? Where is love? Alas!
For the unreturning days’
Sweet memory, and for the poor credulous
Shade, I find no lament, no tears.
A few random poems:
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
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- Chaucer’s Use of Satire, Irony, and Humour
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- Yours & Mine poem – Alice Fulton
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
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