I remember the moment
Your eyes met mine in a dream
Those tiny maps
Of unwinding colour
Where I'd lose myself for days

Emerging,
Sure I knew you so deeply
That your soul
Was palpable in my hands
And your thoughts
Were unspoken words on my tongue.

I'd find myself staring
Up
At the stars,
Hear them whispering
Your name
Like a melody too beautiful
For anyone else to hear.

The sound of the roaring ocean
Was the only comfort
I could seek
Without your voice
To charm me with
Empty words of promise,
Desire,
Longing

The crashing waves called
To me,
Enticing.
I could only think of plunging
Deep
Into the blue void
And never returning
Like a doomed explorer
Willing to lose it all
For some unknown beauty

And as the breath
Escaped from my lungs
And the world
From my eyes,
The last thing I'd picture
As the comforting blue
Took hold of me
Would be your eyes,
Bluer than the bliss
Which engulfed me.

Я вас любил ("I Loved You")

Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin (1799-1837) was a Russian poet, playwright and novelist. He has been called Russia's greatest poet and the founder of modern Russian literature. These are my modern English translations of Pushkin poems, epigrams and quotes …

I Loved You
by Alexander Pushkin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I loved you once … perhaps I love you still …
perhaps such erratic flickerings remain.
But please don’t let my feelings trouble you;
I do not wish to cause you further pain.

I loved you … thus the hopelessness I knew …
the jealousy, the shyness and the pain,
resulted in my hope that somehow you
might find the grace to fall in love again.

2.
I loved you … perhaps I love you still …
perhaps for a while such emotions may remain.
But please don’t let my feelings trouble you;
I do not wish to cause you further pain.

I loved you … thus the hopelessness I knew …
The jealousy, the diffidence, the pain
resulted in two hearts so wholly true
the gods might grant us leave to love again.

3.
I loved you once, and love might still be living,
its fading flame concealed within my core,
But please don't let this fill you with misgiving:
I do not want to hurt you anymore.

In hopeless, silent love I nearly perished:
It made me jealous, and it scared me too.
But now I pray that someday you’ll be cherished
By someone who will love you as I do.

The original Russian poem:

Я вас любил: любовь еще, быть может,
В душе моей угасла не совсем;
Но пусть она вас больше не тревожит;
Я не хочу печалить вас ничем.
Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно,
То робостью, то ревностью томим;
Я вас любил так искренно, так нежно,
Как дай вам бог любимой быть другим.



Friendship
by Alexander Pushkin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

What's “friendship”? The hangover's daze,
The mild aftermath of outrage,
Exchanges in a wounded ego’s haze,
The humiliation of patronage.



I Outlasted Every Desire
by Alexander Pushkin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I outlasted every desire;
for I and my dreams had to part.
Now grief alone is left, entire,
from gleanings of a barren heart.
The maelstroms of Fate
have left my erstwhile laurel stripped;
thus I live alone without a mate
and face my end, thus, ill-equipped.
Thus on a naked tree-limb, shorn
by relentless winter's furious chill,
a single leaf, too lately born,
unseasonal, lies trembling still.



Untitled

I've lived to embalm my desires,
for my golden dreams to corrode to rust;
now all that's left are banked fires
that leave my heart ashen dust.
—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Struck down by the cruel winds of Fate,
my quaint springtime blooms disappear.
Now lonely and sad, I await
Winter’s wail that the end-time draws near.
—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Habit is Heaven's tame redress:
it tugs down the skirts of Happiness.
—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Till, conquered by gusts of cold air,
as Winter approaches, I find,
on a branch that is otherwise bare,
trembling, a leaf left behind.
—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Whom to love, to trust and treasure,
who won’t betray us in the end?
Whose kindest thoughts will measure
our words as we intend?
—Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Then came a moment of realization:
I looked again and you were there,
a fleeting glimpse of perfection,
of all that’s exquisite and rare.
—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When I want to understand you,
I study your obscurities.
—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Never despise the translator, he's the courier of civilization.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Never despise the translator, he's the courier/connector/relay/conduit/Pony Express of civilization.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My whole life was covenanted to this meeting with you…—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I was not put here to entertain Tsars.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fear no insult, seek no crown, receive flattery and slander with equal indifference, and never argue with a fool.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Better ten thousand unrealized dreams than never to have dreamed at all.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

If only you knew the inferno within, which I attempt to tamp down with reason!—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The less we love women, the easier they are to charm.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

As poetry requires inspiration, so does geometry.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Ecstasy is a glass full of tea melting a sugar cube.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Unrequited love is not an affront but an incentive to excel next time.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Moral maxims are most useful when nothing else can excuse our failures.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Write for pleasure, publish for perks.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Write for pleasure, publish for pay/pelf/perks/plenty/plenitude/prosperity.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

An elevating illusion’s more enlightening than innumerable low truths.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Better an exalting illusion than ten thousand truths.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

As long as I live in one heart, I remain immortal.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

As long as I live in one heart, my memory’s immortal.—Alexander Pushkin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: Russia, Russian, Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin, modern English translation, regret, remorse

There may be a thousand
ways to say this,
a kiss is but one of them.

Fingers yearning, burning for touch

Cool skin warming under the heat of desiring eyes

Melded from memories of midnight places

And timeless glances

Welded eyes want to give all the clues to every secret longing, yet nothing away.

An inch spanning eternity a fragile bridge formed by the heat of breath swirling invitations of divine pleasures and intricate patterns for desires filled with aching, yet wanton abandon refrains

The rare heady warmth and enveloping depth of hearts intertwining in some mystic soul ritual, as if it had been too long and naught but for the savouring of such tension like the surface of clear glassy water before shattered by the shock wave of a projectile, just before chaos and expulsion ensue,

tip to tip shared breath, aching for the finite change of the slightest touch, not a hair arched forward, not a finger tip dared move, frozen in the complete confession of a love found unforced, not chosen, nor designed by day dreams. It just was as it had always been inextricably theirs yet not for this moment, this plane, or this existence, but love, never plays by the the rules

This silk is eager for damp skin.
It clings greedily to the peaks of
your topography, obscuring, like
fog, only the depressions.
I am a basin filled with fluid,
eager to capsize,
to spill out over this tile floor
like so much vanilla bath water.
At your heat, I boil.
I billow out from beneath
cream and sugar taffeta
with the whispered sigh of
softly hissing steam and
in tendrils, my tempestuous
mist and moisture form
settles lightly into your
crevices.

I rise,
compelled by your stare.
Those sparkling blue eyes,
the most beautiful things I have ever seen,
command my every move.
Anchored to the ground by the strain of my toes,
I could easily rise higher,
floating away in a giggling bliss.

You make quick work of the space between us,
dispelling the nothingness that tries to keep us apart.
A trail permanently burns into my skin
where your hands had traveled before resting on my hips.
The warmth of your body,
fueled by a quickening pulse,
becomes my new life source.
No longer will I need to breathe
with you breathing,
existing,
for the both of us.

I rise,
compelled by your stare.
You step in,
drawn to my confidence.
You and I,
*collide.