My Soul, My Prophetic Pain Poem by Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
My Soul, My Prophetic Pain
My soul, my prophetic pain!
My heart, forever filled with bother,
O how throb you on a border,
Of two realities, in vain!...
You are a realm of my two worlds,
Your day is fervid and pathetic,
Your sleep unclear and prophetic,
Like scripture of the spirit's thoughts...
And let my breast is in a fit
Of passion, fatal one and scary,
My heart is ready, like saint Mary,
To cling forever to Christ's feet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/24/2024 6:14:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
