I used to love you. I could say, however,
The glimpses of this love are still alive.
But let it bother you not now or ever.
To leave you without sadness I will strive.
My love was hopeless, helplessly surrendered.
And jealousy was eating timid brain.
My love was so sincere, so fair,
As be you blessed to be so loved again.
(Translation of Pushkin)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem