A. Pushkin, I Summon Up... / A. Пушкин, Я помню чудное мгновенье...

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I summon up that flash of wonder:
All of a sudden, you appeared
As if an evanescent phantom,
As if a genius of appeal.
In hopeless melancholy dullness,
In nuisances of noisy haste,
I heard so long your tender parlance
And dreamed about your dear traits.
Years passed. A restless drive of blusters
Caused former dreams to dissipate,
And I forgot your tender parlance
Along with your angelic traits.
Far, in the gloom of isolation,
My days were slowly dragging on,
Without a muse and inspiration,
Bereft of tears, and life, and love.
At last, my spirit's being heartened,
And you show up to me again
As if an evanescent phantom,
As if an ultimate of grace.
The heart is throbbing in elation,
And, as before, it's open now
Both to the muse and inspiration,
Along with life, and tears, and love.