Pushkin, "Воспоминание"

A work ("Remembrance") by this Russian poet.  You can read the original here.

When for the dead a noise-filled day subsides,
Upon the lonesome city squares; 
The night's translucent shadow glares,        
And sleep, reward of daily work, abides;   
For me these hours drag out, a silent drill,   
(Oppressive wakefulness, each one);
In idle night shall burn the sun            
Of my heart's viper gnawing at my will.

Dreams seethe; whereas my mind with yearning knolls,
As thick, unneeded thoughts escape;    
Remembrance wordlessly so waits     
Before me, to unfurl its lengthy scroll.                
And with repulsion shall I read my life,   
Shake, swear, and bitterly complain;
And spill most bitter tears in vain; 
But these, these saddest lines I shall not strike. 

Comments

[alex sok]

Are u aware of Pushkin's Secret journal 1836-1837?
Read it - it is worthwhile.

[deeblog]

Thank you, Alex. I am not a fan of journals, secret, real, fake, or otherwise.