Aleksandr Pushkin, 1799-1837. Russian writer who wrote the novel Eugene Onegin (1831), the play Boris Godunov (1831), and many narrative and lyrical poems and short stories.
An oak tree greening by the ocean; A golden chain about it wound: Whereon a learned can, in motion Both day and night, will walk around; On walking right, he sings a ditty; On walking left, he tells a lay.
There wood and dale with wonders team; At dawn of day the breakers stream Upon the bare and barren lea, And thirty handsome armored heroes File from the waters' shining mirrors, With them their Usher from the Sea.
The heavy hanging chains shall fall, The walls shall crumble at the word, And freedom greet you with the light And brothers give you back the sword.
But overwhelmed by firey passion, Ruslan takes neither drink nor ration; Upon his heart's-love fixed his gaze, He is now sigh, now scowl, now blaze, And gnaws away, impatient mounting. At his moustache, each moment counting.
What now, Ruslan, our luckless farer, Alone in desert hush? It seems, Liudmila and that night of terror Are but the stuff of distant dreams. Bronze helm on brow more tightly pressing, From mighty hands the reins dismissing, You walk your steed amongst the fields, And in your soul there slowly yields Faith to despair---hope barely glimmers.
I was foredoomed by having seen her... Ah, goodly knight, it was Naina! I joined her---and a fateful spell Repaid the forward gaze with capture, And love came into my heart to dwell, Love seized it with his heavenly rapture And with his agonies of hell.
More Quotes by Aleksandr Pushkin: Page 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
