The Flower (Translation)

The Flower /ЦВЕТОК(1828) BY: Alexander Pushkin Language or origin: Russian A flower, withered and forsaken, Inside a tattered book I find. And now the strangest thoughts awaken to sprawl the canvas of my mind. Where did you blossom? When? What year? Long did you bloom? And picked by who? Did friend or stranger leave you here Inside this book, without a clue? A token of a tender meeting Or separation by cruel fate? Perhaps to mark a lonely fleeting Through silent meadows, sylvan shade? And are they still alive today? If so, where lies their earthly nook? Or did they wither, waste away, As did the flower in this book? Original: Цветок засохший, безуханный, Забытый в книге вижу я; И вот уже мечтою странной Душа наполнилась моя: Где цвел? когда? какой весною? И долго ль цвел? и сорван кем, Чужой, знакомой ли рукою? И положен сюда зачем? На память нежного ль свиданья, Или разлуки роковой, Иль одинокого гулянья В тиши полей, в тени лесной? И жив ли тот, и та жива ли? И нынче где их уголок? Или уже они увяли, Как сей неведомый цветок?

gene16180

My muse can be unseemly and nomadic although she fancies meter and good rhyme, her diligence and output are sporadic, and some may say she’s moving past her prime. At times she’s off consorting with the sages reflecting on existence, as it were, At...

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