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Pushkin Translation: I Loved You

I Loved You by Alexander Pushkin loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch 1. I loved you once … perhaps I love you still … perhaps such erratic flickerings remain. But please don’t let my feelings trouble you; I do not wish to cause you further pain. I loved you … thus the hopelessness I knew … the jealousy, the shyness and the pain, resulted in my hope that somehow you might find the grace to fall in love again. 2. I loved you … perhaps I love you still … perhaps for a while such emotions may remain. But please don’t let my feelings trouble you; I do not wish to cause you further pain. I loved you … thus the hopelessness I knew … The jealousy, the diffidence, the pain resulted in two hearts so wholly true the gods might grant us leave to love again. 3. I loved you once, and love might still be living, its fading flame concealed within my core, But please don't let this fill you with misgiving: I do not want to hurt you anymore. In hopeless, silent love I nearly perished: It made me jealous, and it scared me too. But now I pray that someday you’ll be cherished By someone who will love you as I do. Friendship by Alexander Pushkin translation by Michael R. Burch What's “friendship”? The hangover's daze, The mild aftermath of outrage, Exchanges in a wounded ego’s haze, The humiliation of patronage. I Outlasted Every Desire by Alexander Pushkin translation by Michael R. Burch I outlasted every desire; for I and my dreams had to part. Now grief alone is left, entire, from gleanings of a barren heart. The maelstroms of Fate have left my erstwhile laurel stripped; thus I live alone without a mate and face my end, thus, ill-equipped. Thus on a naked tree-limb, shorn by relentless winter's furious chill, a single leaf, too lately born, unseasonal, lies trembling still. Untitled I've lived to embalm my desires, for my golden dreams to corrode to rust; now all that's left are banked fires that leave my heart ashen dust. —Alexander Pushkin, translation by Michael R. Burch Struck down by the cruel winds of Fate, my quaint springtime blooms disappear. Now lonely and sad, I await Winter’s wail that the end-time draws near. —Alexander Pushkin, translation by Michael R. Burch Habit is Heaven's tame redress: it tugs down the skirts of Happiness. —Alexander Pushkin, translation by Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: Alexander Pushkin, English Translations, Russian, love, feelings, emotions, pain, hope, grace, hearts, jealousy, friend, friendship

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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