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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341189" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Chadaev</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341189" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The lies of fame and love’s resolve<br>Have vanished now without a trace,<br>Our youthful passions have dissolved<br>As though a dream or morning haze.<br>Yet, still, we’re burning with desire,<br>And with impatience in our souls,<br>Beneath the yoke of strength and fire,<br>We hark our country’s pleading calls.<br>In expectation, full of ardor,<br>The day of freedom we await, --<br>Thus waits a youthful, eager lover<br>The moment of the promised date.<br>And whilst with liberty we burn,<br>And whilst our hearts adore ovation,<br>Our country needs us, - let us turn<br>And dedicate our soul’s elation.<br>My friend, believe me that with thunder,<br>The star of joy will rise again!<br>And Russia will arise from slumber,<br>Our names will be incised with wonder<br>On remnants of oppressive reign!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Alexander+Sergeyevich+Pushkin">Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin</a></strong></div>