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A Magic Moment I Remember
Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin (6th June, 1799 – 10th February, 1837)

A magic moment I remember:
I raised my eyes and you were there,
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that’s beautiful and rare
I pray to mute despair and anguish,
To vain the pursuits world esteems,
Long did I hear your soothing accents,
Long did your features haunt my dreams.
Time passed. A rebel storm-blast scattered
The reveries that once were mine
And I forgot your soothing accents,
Your features gracefully divine.
In dark days of enforced retirement
I gazed upon grey skies above
With no ideals to inspire me
No one to cry for, live for, love.
Then came a moment of renaissance,
I looked up – you again are there
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that’s beautiful and rare.

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