"The Demon"
This is just a poem that I read in my Russian Literature class. I really liked it, so I thought I'd share it. Yes, I also posted it on Facebook.
“The Demon”
Aleksandr Pushkin
In the days when all the impressions of
existence were new to me–the glances of
maidens, the rustle of a grove, and the
singing of a nightingale at night; when sublime
feelings–freedom, glory, and love–and the inspired
arts were agitating my blood so strongly,
Then, casting a shadow of sudden anguish
over hours of hope and enjoyment,
a certain malicious genius began to visit
me in secret. Our meetings were sad:
his smile, his wondrous glance, his
wounding speeches poured cold venom
into my soul. With inexhaustible
slander he would tempt providence;
he called the beautiful a dream;
he despised inspiration; he disbelieved
in love, in freedom; he looked on life
scornfully, and nothing in all nature
was he inclined to bless.
“The Demon”
Aleksandr Pushkin
In the days when all the impressions of
existence were new to me–the glances of
maidens, the rustle of a grove, and the
singing of a nightingale at night; when sublime
feelings–freedom, glory, and love–and the inspired
arts were agitating my blood so strongly,
Then, casting a shadow of sudden anguish
over hours of hope and enjoyment,
a certain malicious genius began to visit
me in secret. Our meetings were sad:
his smile, his wondrous glance, his
wounding speeches poured cold venom
into my soul. With inexhaustible
slander he would tempt providence;
he called the beautiful a dream;
he despised inspiration; he disbelieved
in love, in freedom; he looked on life
scornfully, and nothing in all nature
was he inclined to bless.
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