I live without hope of ever communicating my gratitude to you, to any extent I might consider satisfactory.
But please do not think of me as a pessimist! Anguish might well interrupt me on most days I wake, including those meant to be celebrated, but without your support and kind wishes, I couldn't live in the hope of otherwise making myself understood...
And so as lousy as things have been, it just so happens the date of my birth coincides with the beginning of Spring...
Last of the tempest-scattered clouds!
You alone charge upon the azure;
You alone cast a shadow, sad;
You alone temper the brightness of day.
Over time just passed, you covered the sky,
With lightning wound around you;
You thundered into the earth;
Pouring rain upon its perpetual thirst,
Enough! Disappear, that time has passed,
The earth is refreshed; the tempest flown away,
As gentle wind, caressing the leaves of trees,
Brings forth a heavenly repose.
*Alexandr Pushkin, 1835