The Flower by Aleksandr Sergeevich Pushkin

The Flower (Pushkin, 1828)

A flower shrivelled, lacking fragrance,
Forgotten in a book I see,
And instantly my soul awakens,
Filled with a curious reverie:

When did it bloom? Last spring? or earlier?
And for how long? Where plucked? By whom?
By fingers alien? familiar?
And why put here, as in a tomb?

To mark a tender meeting by it?
A parting with a precious one?
Or just a walk, alone and quiet,
In forests' shade? in meadows' sun?

Is she alive? Is he still with her?
Where is their haven at this hour?
Or did they both already wither,
Like this unfathomable flower? Genia Gurarie, summer of 1995

Category:

Education

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• flower
• alksander
• sergeevich
• puskin
• poem