One bearded sage concluded: there's no motion.

Without a word, another walked before him.

He couldn’t answer better; all adored him

And all agreed that he disproved that notion.

But one can see it all in a different light,

For me, another funny thought comes into play:

We watch the sun move all throughout the day

And yet the stubborn Galileo had it right.
Alexander Pushkin
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All’s finished: you and I are fractured

All’s finished: you and I are fractured.

I sang my songs of sorrow line by line

As I embraced your knees the final time.

All’s finished now – I heeded your reaction.

It’s done. I won’t deceive myself again.

I won’t pursue you, full of grief and woe.

Perhaps, one day, I’ll learn to let you go.

It’s clear that love was made for other men.

You’re still so young: Your soul is beautiful

And many men will love you after me.
Alexander Pushkin
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Lisa is afraid to love

Lisa is afraid to love.

Nonsense, -- that is not her manner!

Careful – what if it’s a bluff

And perhaps this new Diana

Has repressed her passion’s call—

And with shameful, glowing eyes

Walks among us in disguise,

Looking just for whom to fall.
Alexander Pushkin
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My friend, I have forgotten all that’s passed

My friend, I have forgotten all that’s passed,

The passion of my youth was rather brief.

Don’t ask about the things that didn’t last,

Or how I felt in the times of joy or grief,

Or what I loved, on how I was betrayed.

I may not know true happiness today:

But you are innocent, conceived for only bliss,

Believe in it and seize each moment’s portion

Your soul was made for friendship and devotion,

To feel the passion of a kiss.

Your soul is pure and unexposed to sadness

Your conscience is still clear like light of day,

Why listen to the lunacy and madness

Of all of my uninteresting hearsay?

It will replace your peaceful thoughts with stress,

Your heart will tremble, you will cry in bed,

Your soul will lose its trust in its distress,

Perhaps, my love will fill you with regret.

Who knows? perhaps forever... No, my dear,

I fear to cast my final happiness away

Don’t ask for dangerous confessions here,

Today I love, I’m happy for today.
Alexander Pushkin
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This time's the final time...

This time’s the final time, my friend,

I enter through your door.

Love’s quiet hour has been spent

And now, there is no more.

Don’t wait for me all night and mope,

Held captive by the deceitful hope,

Don’t burn your candles, in a daze,

Til morning rays.
Alexander Pushkin
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I will be silenced soon...

I will be silenced soon!... If on the tragic day,

The strings would pensively begin to play;

If adolescents, sitting quietly, immersed,

Began to marvel at my passion’s madness;

If only you, surrendering to sadness,

In silence mumbled melancholy verse

And loved the way my ardent heart had flamed...

If I’m still loved... allow me, my dear friend,

To re-awake the lyre with my hand

And make it ring out with my lover’s name!...

The day I find eternal rest, you’ll pause

Over my grave and say with trepidation:

“I used to loved him, and with that I caused

His songs and love, - his final inspiration.
Alexander Pushkin
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I've lived to see desire vanish... (ver.3)

I’ve lived to see desire vanish,

With hope I’ve slowly come to part,

And I am left with only anguish,

The fruit of emptiness at heart.

Under the storms of merciless fate,

My worn and withered garland lies--

In sadness, lonesome, I await:

How far away is my demise?

Thus, conquered by a tardy frost,

Through gale’s whistling and shimmer,

Late, on a naked limb exposed

A lonesome leaf is left to quiver!...
Alexander Pushkin
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To Lily

Lily, Lily! I am sighing

With despair and hopeless woe.

I am tortured, I am dying,

And my soul has lost its glow,

But my love evoked no pity:

You consider me pathetic.

Keep on laughing: you are pretty

Even when unsympathetic.
Alexander Pushkin
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“Confess to me, what’s wrong. You’re in dejection.”

- I love, my friend! - “Which lady holds you captive?”

- She does. - “Glisera? Chloe? Lila’s so attractive!”

- O, no! - “To whom do you submit your soul’s affection?”

- To her! - “You’re humble! Why all this remorse?

Why do you seem so sorrowful and grim?

And who’s to blame? Her fiancé, her dad, of course...”

- It isn’t that! - “Then what?” - For her, I can’t be him.
Alexander Pushkin
Read in English and Russian