Poem By Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
Afar--I fain, so much would tell thee!
List to thee o'er and o'er when near;
Yet passioned glances thou dost silence--
My words bind to my lips in fear.
How, by mere homely speaking, can I
E'en hope to captivate thine ears?
I swear it would be food for laughter--
If it were not more fit for tears!