Moonbeams
Do you see those moonbeams there
filter softly through the leaves?
Or do they fall upon your resting skin,
and come only in your dreams?
Can you see those moonbeams now
Diana’s visage is on full display,
or do they land upon your shores in vain
surely to be turned away?
We once saw those moonbeams there
filling space where our hearts had been
like the breath of the benignant night
Pushkin silently drank in!
Loosely based on Eugene Onegin XLVII