If life deceives you;
Do not sorrow, do not grieve!
On the day of grief, submit-
The day of joy, believe, draws near.
The heart lives in the future;
If the present is dismal,
All is momentary, all will pass;
What has passed will be dear.
A.S. Pushkin (1825)
will try to assemble some clutter to forward to you, for now here is a poem, much on my mind, by Pushkin:
isaac
