Don’t ask me why, alone in dismal thought, <br />In times of mirth, I’m often filled with strife, <br />And why my weary stare is so distraught, <br />And why I don’t enjoy the dream of life; <br /> <br />Don’t ask me why my happiness has perished, <br />Why I don’t love the love that pleased me then, <br />No longer can I call someone my cherished-- <br />Who once felt love will never love again; <br /> <br />Who once felt bliss, no more will feel its essence, <br />A moment’s happiness is all that we receive: <br />From youth, prosperity and joyful pleasantry, <br />All that is left is apathy and grief...<br /><br />Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/don-t-ask-me-why-3/
