by Alexander Pushkin
I loved you-
even now I may confess
Some embers of my love their fire retain
But do not let it cause you more distress-
I do not want to sadden you again.
Hopeless and tongue-tied, yet, I loved you dearly
With pangs the jealous the timid know
So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely,
I pray God grant another love you so.