Konstantin Batyushkov

1787 - 1855

My Spirit

Oh, heart's remembrance! You are, yet,
Mush stronger than sad one of reasons;
And, often in a distant land,
Bewitch me with your even sweetness.
I hear the sound of your word,
I see the blue of eyes, so dear,
I see your golden locks, right here,
Of the hair so negligently curled;
I see the whole simple dress
Of my superior shepherdess,
Your image, so sweat and peerless,
Wanders with me from a place to a place.
It is my guarding spirit-fellow,
Given, as solace, me by love:
I fall at sleep, and by my pillow,
It'll comfort dreams that ran above.
148 Total read