Foreword | p. xi |
Friendship | p. 3 |
Song | p. 4 |
Song | p. 6 |
Remembrance | p. 7 |
Night | p. 8 |
March 19, 1823 | p. 9 |
As I was leaving Albion's shore | p. 13 |
To My Friends | p. 16 |
There is enjoyment in a wilderness of trees | p. 17 |
You've heard that saying brave | p. 18 |
The Russian God | p. 21 |
Tears | p. 23 |
The Tear | p. 24 |
I have outlived most things | p. 25 |
Remembrance | p. 26 |
To Natalia Nikolaevna Pushkina | p. 28 |
To Chaadaev | p. 31 |
K*** | p. 32 |
To Vyazemsky | p. 34 |
Arion | p. 35 |
Message to Siberia | p. 36 |
The Prophet | p. 37 |
When wand'ring along noisy alleys | p. 39 |
The Georgian hills above | p. 41 |
I loved you once | p. 42 |
To a Poet | p. 43 |
For God's sake, let me not go mad | p. 44 |
It's time, my dear, it's time | p. 46 |
Elegy | p. 47 |
... I visit once again | p. 48 |
Disillusion | p. 53 |
My gift is scant | p. 54 |
Death | p. 55 |
The Muse | p. 57 |
Desolation | p. 58 |
The Wineglass | p. 62 |
Autumn | p. 64 |
All things have their own pace | p. 71 |
Planting a Wood | p. 72 |
Elegy | p. 77 |
Song | p. 78 |
Elegy | p. 79 |
Thanksgiving | p. 80 |
Elegy | p. 81 |
The Sail | p. 85 |
No, I'm not Byron | p. 86 |
Meditation | p. 87 |
Prayer | p. 89 |
Testament | p. 90 |
The boredom, the sadness | p. 92 |
Gratitude | p. 93 |
Native Land | p. 94 |
I walk out alone into the darkness | p. 96 |
The Dream | p. 98 |
Farewell to Russia's unwashed features | p. 99 |
The Prophet | p. 100 |
As round this earthly globe | p. 105 |
There is about these autumn evenings bright | p. 106 |
Silentium! | p. 107 |
I love the rite of Luther's congregation | p. 108 |
My soul is an Elysium of shades | p. 109 |
Day and Night | p. 110 |
When locked in murd'rous toils | p. 111 |
Bestow, O Lord, thy gracious pardon | p. 112 |
Last Love | p. 113 |
Seated there upon the floor | p. 114 |
She was oblivious the livelong day | p. 115 |
Through reason Russia can't be known | p. 116 |
Should you love | p. 119 |
O land of mine | p. 120 |
As wave after wave | p. 121 |
The lord, when arming me | p. 122 |
You are a victim of life's grief | p. 123 |
Farewell | p. 127 |
from Reflections by a Main Entrance | p. 128 |
from Frost, the Red-nosed | p. 130 |
My dear, mere words have no power | p. 137 |
Breathing seems much easier | p. 138 |
The Old Park | p. 139 |
By the Fireside | p. 141 |
To the Muse | p. 142 |
Up in the hay one evening | p. 143 |
The stars glowed red | p. 144 |
Never | p. 145 |
To the Muse | p. 147 |
Butterfly | p. 148 |
Biographical Notes | p. 151 |
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