Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev. (№ 34117)

She was sitting on the floor
And piles of letters examined,
And, like embers,
Took them in his hands and threw.
Took friends leaves
And so wonderful they looked,
As souls look down
On the corpse they have abandoned...
Oh, how life was then,
Experienced irreparable!
Oh, how many bitter moments,
Love and joy killed!..
I stood silently on the sidelines
And fall ready was to kneel, -
It was sad and scary to me
As inherent from the cute shadow.