Alexander Pushkin
Alexander Pushkin
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin; 6 June 1799 – 10 February 1837) was a Russian poet, playwright, and novelist of the Romantic era who is considered by many to be the greatest Russian poet and the founder of modern Russian literature...
NationalityRussian
ProfessionAuthor
Date of Birth6 June 1799
CityMoscow, Russia
CountryRussian Federation
dream autumn meditation
Sad that our finest aspiration Our freshest dreams and meditations, In swift succession should decay, Like Autumn leaves that rot away.
pain men gone-away
I loved you: and, it may be, from my soul The former love has never gone away, But let it not recall to you my dole; I wish not sadden you in any way. I loved you silently, without hope, fully, In diffidence, in jealousy, in pain; I loved you so tenderly and truly, As let you else be loved by any man.
book light dust
There yet remains but one concluding tale, And then this chronicle of mine is ended Fulfilled, the duty God ordained to me, A sinner. Not without purpose did the Lord Put me to witness much for many years And educate me in the love of books. One day some indefatigable monk Will find my conscientious, unsigned work; Like me, he will light up his ikon-lamp And, shaking from the scroll the age-old dust, He will transcribe these tales in all their truth.
writing pleasure publish
Write for pleasure and publish for money.
dance soul ballet
Ballet is a dance executed by the human soul.
wine mistress vain
Mistress-like, its brilliance vain, highly capricious and inane...
ideas two together
Two fixed ideas can no more exist together in the moral world than two bodies can occupy one and the same place in the physical world.
want moscow old-woman
I do not like Moscow life. You live here not as you want to live, but as old women want you to.
country years two
Try to be forgotten. Go live in the country. Stay in mourning for two years, then remarry, but choose somebody decent.
unrequited-love love-is men
Unrequited love is not an affront to man but raises him.
civilization despise mailman
Please, never despise the translator. He's the mailman of human civilization.
heart dust together
Tis time, my friend, 'tis time! For rest the heart is aching; Days follow days in flight, and every day is taking Fragments of being, while together you and I Make plans to live. Look, all is dust, and we shall die.
dream youth sweetness
My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?
fighting men mind
A man who's active and incisive can yet keep nail-care much in mind: why fight what's known to be decisive? custom is despot of mankind.