A poem by Alexander Pushkin – Pouchkine, Pooshkin (1799-1837), in English translation


I still recall the wondrous moment

When you appeared before my eyes,

Just like a fleeting apparition,

Just like pure beauty’s distillation.

When’er I languished in the throes of hopeless grief

Amid the troubles of life’s vanity,

Your sweet voice lingered on in me,

Your dear face came to me in dreams.

Years passed. The raging, gusty storms

Dispersed my former reveries,

And I forgot your tender voice,

Your features so divine.

In exile, in confinement’s gloom,

My uneventful days wore on,

Bereft of awe and inspiration

Bereft of tears, of life, of love.

My soul awakened once again:

And once again you came to me,

Just like a fleeting apparition

Just like pure beauty’s distillation.

My heart again resounds in rapture,

Within it once again arise

Feelings of awe and inspiration,

Of life itself, of tears, and love.

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