"Have I outlasted all Desire, and My Dreams Have I
grown apart; My Grief is left alone Entire, gleamings The Heart of an
empty. The storms of ruthless Dispensation Have Struck My Flowery
Garland numb, I Live in Desolation Lonely And Wonder When My end Will
Come. Thus on a Naked Tree-Limb, Blasted By tardy Winter's chill Whistling,
A single leaf Which Has outlasted Its season Will be
Still trembling. "
- Alexander
Pushkin
