by Alexander Pushkin
***
I've gone today through my desires,
And lost the love to magic dreams;
The only sufferings reside here,
The fruits of heart's whole emptiness.
By influence of cruel fate storm
My blooming wreath had faded all -
I live so sorrowful, alone,
And wait: if end would come and call?
So under impact of frosts later,
When winter tempest whistles most,
Alone - on the tree branch naked,
The leaf is trembling ever lost.
(1821)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem