It was lovely.
An hour or so with my old friends Dickinson, Wordsworth, Longfellow, Neruda, and Poe was more than enough to bring me to a quiescent state. I also made new friends in Elizabeth Bishop and Alexander Pushkin. One of the latter's poems has stuck with me all throughout the night.
It's a sad, yet soulful poem. I'd change a sentiment here and there, but I think this poem is one of the most hauntingly beautiful passages I've read in a while.
I Loved You
I loved you, and I probably still do,
And for a while the feeling may remain...
But let my love no longer trouble you, I do not wish to cause you any pain.
I loved you; and the hopelessness I knew, The jealousy, the shyness - though in vain -
Made up a love so tender and so true
As may God grant you to be loved again.
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin