To... by Pushkin

To start with! Here is one of my favorite poems by Aleksandr Pushkin. A poem written almost 200 hundred years ago, but yet resonates in this age with such tenderness!

To...

I just recall this wondrous instant:

You have arrived before my face --
A vision, fleeting in a distance,
A spirit of the pure grace.

In pine of sorrow unfair,
In worldly harassment and noise
I dreamed of your beloved air
And heard your quiet, gentle voice.

Years passed. The tempests' rebel senders
Have scattered this delightful dream,
And I forgot this sound tender
And how heavenly you seemed.

In gloomy dark of isolation,
My days were gradually moved,
Without faith and inspiration,
Without tears, life, and love.

My soul awoke with decision:
And you again came as a blest,
Like an enchanting fleeting vision,
A spirit of the pure grace.

My heart beats on in resurrection --
It has again for what to strive:
Divinity and inspiration,
Life, tears, and eternal love.

-- Aleksandr Pushkin

Comments

[Poem] The Burned Letter - by Pushkin

Farewell, Letter of Love! farewell: it's her desire. How long did I delay! How long refused, in ire, I to destroy the single joy of mine!... Enough! The time has come. Burn, scripts of love divine. I'm ready; nothing else can call for my sad soul… Now the greedy flame is touching its form whole… A minute!… it is flamed and blazing – smoke, light, With my bitter laments, is flying off my sight. And now the ring's stamp forfeited its form previous – It's boiling – the seal wax… O, Providence of Heavens! That's all! The letter's leaves are twisted, now black; On their light ashes their well known track Is whitening… My heart is squeezed. Oh, dear ashes, In my sad destiny, my poor consolations, Forever lie on breast, so fully, fully wracked…

[Poem] Childe Harold's Pilgrimage - by Lord Byron

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin--his control Stops with the shore;--upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown. His steps are not upon thy paths,--thy fields Are not a spoil for him,--thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from ...

Do we really know what we are looking for in life?

As we get older and older in life, until a certain point, all equations in life get equally messier. Kids live in the moment. Whatever is their state of mind, they stay in the present. Mostly active, curious, and happy, and sometimes hurt, crying, and sad. It is an intense state of living. Does a kid born in a rich family feel more happy than a kid born in a poor family? I am talking here of the depth of the happiness, not the breadth of it. Of course, a rich kid is always attended to, its whims will be satisfied quickly, and hence it may have more moments of happiness in life. On the other hand, a poor kid is mostly unattended, possibly subjected to traumatic experiences every day, and hence may have fewer moments to cherish. But I don't think the intensity of both kids' excitement and happiness differ at all. I was born in a lower middle class family. Both of my parents had to work to make ends meet. Thus I and my sister were hardly supervised. Though my parents genuinely tri...

Heart Complex

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