In your hidden memories <br />There are fatal tidings of doom... <br />A curse on sacred traditions, <br />A desecration of happiness; <br /> <br />And a power so alluring <br />That I am ready to repeat the rumour <br />That you have brought angels down from heaven, <br />Enticing them with your beauty... <br /> <br />And when you mock at faith, <br />That pale, greyish-purple halo <br />Which I once saw before <br />Suddenly begins to shine above you. <br /> <br />Are you evil or good? You are altogether from another world <br />They say strange things about you <br />For some you are the Muse and a miracle. <br />For me you are torment and hell. <br /> <br />I do not know why in the hour of dawn, <br />When no strength was left to me, <br />I did not perish, but caught sight of your face <br />And begged you to comfort me. <br /> <br />I wanted us to be enemies; <br />Why then did you make me a present <br />Of a flowery meadow and of the starry firmament -- <br />The whole curse of your beauty? <br /> <br />Your fearful caresses were more treacherous <br />Than the northern night, <br />More intoxicating than the golden champagne of Aï, <br />Briefer than a gypsy woman's love... <br /> <br />And there was a fatal pleasure <br />In trampling on cherished and holy things; <br />And this passion, bitter as wormwood, <br />Was a frenzied delight for the heart!<br /><br />Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-muse-2/
