verses about the most beautiful lady

Do not expect the final answer,
It is not given in this life.
But the ear of the poet clearly catches
The distant thunder on his road.

He has bent his head attentively,
Eagerly, he takes it in, fine-strung, he waits,
And already he can hear it:
It flowers, it basks in bliss, it grows….

And nearer yet, the premonition stronger,
But, Ah! The expectation is unbearable…
And the seer falls, struck dumb,
Hearing the thunder close upon the road.

Alexander Blok

on the death of a poet

They brought me word of your death,
Herakleitos,
and I wept for you remembering
how often we watched the sun
setting as we talked.

Dear Halikarnassian friend,
you lie elsewhere now
and are mere ashes;
yet your songs—your nightingales—will live,
and never will the underworld,
destroying everything,
touch them with its deadly hand.

Kallimachos