I loved you, and that love, to die refusing,
May still - who knows! - be smouldering in my breast
Pray be not pained - believe me, of my choosing
I'd never have you troubled or distressed.
I loved you mutely, hopelessly and truly,
With shy yet fervent tenderness aglow;
Mine was a jealous passion and unruly...
May God grant that another'll love you so!
Writer : Alexander Pushkin
Follow me 