Muse Poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin


Rating: 2.7

In my youth's years, she loved me, I am sure.
The flute of seven pipes she gave in my tenure
And harked to me with smile -- without speed,
Along the ringing holes of the reed,
I got to play with my non-artful fingers
The peaceful songs of Phrygian village singers,
And the important hymns, that gods to mortals bade.
From morn till night in oaks' silent shade
I diligently harked to the mysterious virgin;
Rewarding me, by chance, for any good decision,
And taking locks aside of the enchanting face,
She sometimes took from me the flute, such commonplace.
The reed became alive in consecrated breathing
And filled the heart with holiness unceasing.

Rajnish Manga 18 June 2017

True love is always blissful and divine- 'Rewarding me.... And filled the heart with holiness unceasing'. Great poem. Thanks for sharing.

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Ratnakar Mandlik 18 June 2017

May be, infatuation of an youth, marvelously portrayed.

0 0 Reply
Joshua Adeyemi 18 June 2017

Filrty love........nice write up

0 1 Reply
Anil Kumar Panda 18 June 2017

Nice poem with great flow and sweet rhyming. Enjoyed.

0 1 Reply
Liza Sudina 18 June 2017

Superb, Peerless, genius! The best of all times!

0 0 Reply
Edward Kofi Louis 18 June 2017

From morn till night! Thanks for sharing.

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