Letter of love so strangely thrilling
With all your countless wonder yet,
Though Time our heart’s hot fires have mastered,
Bringing a pang of pained regret!
The while your blest receiver holds you,
His banished passions still rebel,
No longer reason sacrifices
His sentiment,–so then farewell!
Destroyed be this love-token treasured!
For if ’tis read when time has flown,
Deep in the buried soul ’twill waken
The torment vanished days have known.
At first but a light scorn arousing
For silly childishness,–at last
With fiery yearning overwhelming,
And jealousy for all the past.
O Thou, from whom a myriad letters
Speak with the breath of love to me,
Though my gaze rest on thee austerely,
Yet, yet,–I cannot part with thee!
Time has revealed with bitter clearness
How little thou with truth wert blessed,
How like a child my own behaviour–
Yet, dear to me I still must save
This flower scentless, without colour,
From off my manhood’s early grave!
(Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Light Poems, Time Poems, Past Poems, Letters Poems, Rebellion PoemsBased on Keywords: arousing, austerely, yet-i, love-token