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.
To shelter her, all dim and breezy; An exquisite repast is laid, The setting sparks with crystal glitter; From quiet depths of leafy shade Clear runs of harp-notes trill and titter. The princess marveled much at this, In private though, took it amiss.
Take courage, Prince! Arise, make ready For home now with your slumbering bride; Keep love and honor for your guide! Your strength of soul renew and steady. God's thunderbolt will shatter malice, And sweet tranquility provide--- In shining Kiev, in the palace, Before Vladimir as you bend, Liudmila's magic sleep will end
Upon the darkly sloping bank Of a clear rivulet uncharted, In forest twlight green and rank, Where firs the densest shade imparted.
You order me, my heart's desire, To keep the light and careless lyre Resounding to the tales of old, And for the Muse forbear to savor The boon of leisure hours untold...
Into Liudmila's room again; He paces down the whole long floor--- No princess there. He tries the door Out to the park; past cedars tall Along the lake, around the fall, In groves, in arbors tries to find her: In vain! she left no trace behind her.
Ruslan lay in a crimson pool. The sage bent over him and sprinkled Upon the corpse the drops of death: Which made its gashes raw and wrinkled, Close up, and spread a rosy breath Of comeliness; and next he sprinkled The drops of life upon the form; And resurrected, vital, warm, Athrob with eagerness and vigor.
More Quotes by Aleksandr Pushkin: Page 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
