Letzte Woche blieb das Gedicht aus weil es doch sehr stressig wurde, aber nun habe ich mich wieder auf die Suche begeben und habe etwas schönes found:
It is a love poem, if not the love poetry in general. At least in Russia, where it was for decades a required poem at school (Maybe it's still always so?)
It was written by Alexander Pushkin (1799 to 1837) and here I make it both as original and as a translation of Eric Boerner:
Я помню чудное мгновенье Передо мной явилась you,
How fleeting vision
How pure beauty
In torture of hopeless melancholy
In anxieties noisy fuss
voice rang out so tender
And dreamed of that lovely features
years went by. storm 's blast
scattered old dreams,
And I forget your tender voice,
Your celestial features.
In wilderness , in gloomy
My days dragged quietly
Without faith , without inspiration,
No tears , without life, without love.
My soul awoke :
And here again you appeared,
Like a fleeting vision,
as pure beauty.
And my heart beats in ecstasy
And for him resurrected again
and deities, и вдохновенье,
И жизнь, и слезы, и любовь.
A moment, a beautiful:
appeared before my eyes, you,
appearance in passing hovering
Genius of pure beauty.
In hopeless grief caught
In the whirlwind of the noisy world
resounded your delicate little voice long
appeared in a dream your delicate work.
The storm rebel visions
broke what was once warn dreams
your delicate little voice was lost,
your idol vanished with the partent.
deaf, in the darkness of exile
Still singing day after day from there crept
No God and no Muses,
No life, tears, Not love.
But then woke my soul
Once again you came up to me,
appearance in passing hovering
Genius of pure beauty. sound
excitement, heartbeats,
new from the ashes rises up to
The deity, and sing the Muses,
And life, tears, love it.
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