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I want to understand you, I study your obscure language.

Alexander Pushkin

I’ve lived to bury my desires, And see my dreams corrode with rust; Now all that’s left are fruitless fires That burn my empty heart to dust.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Burn Bury Desire Dreams Empty Heart Live
It is better to have dreamed a thousand dreams that never were than never to have dreamed at all.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Better Choice Dreams
Play interests me very much,” said Hermann: “but I am not in the position to sacrifice the necessary in the hope of winning the superfluous.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Interest Myself Play Position Sacrifice Win
Love passed, the Muse appeared, the weather of mind got clarity new-found; now free, I once more weave together emotion, thought, and magic sound.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Appearance Emotion Finding Love Magic Sound Togetherness Weave
Moscow, how many strains are fusing in that one sound, for Russian hearts! What store of riches it imparts!
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Fuse Heart Store Strain
Mistress-like, its brilliance vain, highly capricious and inane.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Brilliant Capacity Sanity
Then came a moment of renaissance, I looked up – you again are there, A fleeting vision, the quintessence Of all that`s beautiful and rare.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Beautiful Moments Myself Rare Vision
A deception that elevates us is dearer than a host of low truths.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Dear Deception Elevate Host Low Truth
Try to be forgotten. Go live in the country. Stay in mourning for two years, then remarry, but choose somebody decent.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Body Choice Country Decent Forget Live Marriage Try
Ecstasy is a glass full of tea and a piece of sugar in the mouth.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Happiness Joy Mouth Pieces
Write for pleasure and publish for money.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Happiness Oneself Pleasure Publish Writing
In this, our age of infamy Man’s choice is but to be A tyrant, traitor, prisoner: No other choice has he.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Age Choice Himself Man Prison
The less we show our love to a woman, Or please her less, and neglect our duty, The more we trap and ruin her surely, In the flattering toils of philandery.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Avoid Herself Love Please Responsibility Woman
Ballet is a dance executed by the human soul.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Dance Human Soul
With womankind, the less we love them, the easier they become to charm.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Charm Kind Love Woman
Please, never despise the translator. He’s the mailman of human civilization.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Civilization Human Translation
Don’t be sad, don’t be angry, if life deceives you! Submit to your grief – your time for joy will come, believe me.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Angry Believe Grief Joy Myself Sadness Time
Thank you, darling, for learning to play chess. It is an absolute necessity for any well organized family. (in a letter to his wife)
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Darling Family Learning Organization
A man who’s active and incisive can yet keep nail-care much in mind: why fight what’s known to be decisive? Custom is despot of mankind.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Active Care Fight Kind Man Mindset
Unrequited love is not an affront to man but raises him.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Love Man Raise
To love all ages yield surrender; But to the young it’s raptures bring A blessing bountiful and tender- As storms refresh the fields of spring.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Age Blessing Love Refreshment Storm Surrender
Cabbage soup and barley. They’re Russia’s national food. Both excellent in their way, but a shade monotonous.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Barley Boredom Excellence Food National Shade Soup
I want to understand you, I study your obscure language.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Language Myself Study Understand
Fearing no insult, asking for no crown, receive with indifference both flattery and slander, and do not argue with a fool.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Argument Difference Fear Flattery Fools Insult
I do not like Moscow life. You live here not as you want to live, but as old women want you to.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Life Live Old Woman Yourself
Somewhere between obsession and compulsion is impulse.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Compulsion Impulse Obsession
Tis time, my friend, ’tis time! For rest the heart is aching; Days follow days in flight, and every day is taking, Fragments of being, while together you and I, Make plans to live. Look, all is dust, and we shall die.
ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

Day Death Fragment Friendship Heart Time

I want to understand you, I study your obscure language.

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I want to understand you, I study your obscure language.

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