A magic moment I remember:
I raised my eyes and you were there,
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that's beautiful and rare
I pray to mute despair and anguish,
To vain the pursuits world esteems,
Long did I hear your soothing accents,
Long did your features haunt my dreams.
Time passed. A rebel storm-blast scattered
The reveries that once were mine
And I forgot your soothing accents,
Your features gracefully divine.
In dark days of enforced retirement
I gazed upon grey skies above
With no ideals to inspire me
No one to cry for, live for, love.
Then came a moment of reinessance,
I looked up - you again are there
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that's beautiful and rare
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From guest yoink! (contact)
Love this poem, but... is that 'near' in line 7 a typo? Is it meant to be 'hear', which would make slightly more sense?
Does anybody know which collection this was published in? I'd like to buy a print copy =)
(there appeared to be two corrections needed, one in line 7 and one in line 8 (deleting "I") MOD) -
It really is enjoyable! Congrats!
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absolutely wonderful
i loved this
excelllent and beautifully penned
right on the ticket in style, and form
so very nice of you to have shared this
nicely done, truly -
excellent
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A marvelous poem...it calls to mind many different possible subjects, a lost love, a city...whatever the rarety is the narrator's admiring diction reflects its grandeur well.
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OHHHH yes...It is indeed beautiful and rare..
Love it.. -
A beautiful poem written to a woman who, as the man aged came back to him in a vision of beauty. How wonderful his description of this rare moment which brought him so much happiness, though fleeting, to brighten the grey skies overhead.
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Of all that's beautiful and rare
The poem has a very soft mood. Pushkin the great has very nicely expressed the first appearance and then the re appearance of his beloved and he is still having the same feelings which is a sign of an eternal love.
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that's beautiful and rare.
this poem is also titled as ‘ To…’ in some of the books and on some other Pushkin’s poetry sites.
A very beautiful poem indeed.
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