I Love Thee Poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

I loved thee; and perchance until this moment
Within my breast is smouldering still the fire!
Yet I would spare thy pain the least renewal,
Nothing shall rouse again the old desire!

I loved thee with a silent desperation--
Now timid, now with jealousy brought low,
I loved devoutly,--with such deep devotion--
Ah may God grant another love thee so!


Another Translation:

I loved you once: perhaps that love has yet
To die down thoroughly within my soul;
But let it not dismay you any longer;
I have no wish to cause you any sorrow.
I loved you wordlessly, without a hope,
By shyness tortured, or by jealousy.
I loved you with such tenderness and candor
And pray God grants you to be loved that way again.