Imitation
I saw the Death, and she was
By quiet entrance at my own home,
I saw the doors were opened in my tomb,
And there, and there my hope was a-flittingI'll die, and traces of my
In days of future will be never sighted,
Look of my eyes will never be
By dear look, in my existence last.
Farewell the somber world, where, precipice above,
My gloomy road was a-streaming,
Where life for me was never cheering,
Where I was loving, having not to love!
The dazzling heavens' azure curtain,
Beloved hills, the brook's enchanting dance,
You, mourn — the inspiration's chance,
You, peaceful shades of wilderness, uncertain,
And all — farewell, farewell at once.
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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