A.s. pushkin's poems
Should this life sometime deceive you,
Don’t be sad or mad at it!
On a gloomy day, submit:
Trust – fair day will come, why grieve you?
Heart lives in the future, so
What if gloom pervade the present?
All is fleeting, all will go;
What is gone will then be pleasant.
I loved you, and that love, to die refusing,
May still – who knows! – be smouldering in my breast
Pray be not pained – believe me, of my choosing
I’d never have you troubled or distressed.
I loved you mutely, hopelessly and truly,
With shy yet fervent tenderness aglow;
Mine was a jealous passion and unruly…
May God grant that another’ll love you so!