Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

(6 June 1799 – 10 February 1837 / Moscow)

Muse

Poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

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.


Comments about Muse by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

  • Ratnakar Mandlik (6/18/2017 10:51:00 PM)

    May be, infatuation of an youth, marvelously portrayed.(Report)Reply

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  • Joshua AdeyemiJoshua Adeyemi (6/18/2017 7:31:00 AM)

    Filrty love........nice write up(Report)Reply

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  • Anil Kumar PandaAnil Kumar Panda (6/18/2017 6:43:00 AM)

    Nice poem with great flow and sweet rhyming. Enjoyed.(Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • Liza SudinaLiza Sudina (6/18/2017 4:49:00 AM)

    Superb, Peerless, genius! The best of all times!(Report)Reply

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  • Edward Kofi LouisEdward Kofi Louis (6/18/2017 2:58:00 AM)

    From morn till night! Thanks for sharing.(Report)Reply

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  • Rajnish MangaRajnish Manga (6/18/2017 1:44:00 AM)

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

    0 person liked.
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Read poems about / on: sometimes, smile, night, heart, song



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003