Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev (5 December 1803 – 27 July 1873 / Ovstug)
You're here again - and of a sudden
A warmth long gone floods my dead heart,
And all I thought forgot, unbidden
Returns, of me becomes a part.
Just as spring's breath may soft come stealing
Upon the air on late fall's day
And rouse in us a vanished feeling
Of life, of something young and gay -
So of past years do I recover
The richness, and on your sweet face
With all the ardour of a lover
In reawakened rapture gaze.
Too long apart, drawn are we nearer
Once more - you're here, 'tis not a dream!
Sounds, ne'er within me stilled, the clearer
At sight of you and louder seem.
Remembrance?- No! The rustling pages
Of life turn fast - life's full again.
Your loveliness stays ever changeless,
My love for you unchanged remains.
Comments about this poem (To K.B. by Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev )
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