Here you will find the Poem Say Not He Loves Me of poet Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
Say not he loves me as before, as truly, dearly As once he did... Oh no! My life He would destroy, he does destroy - though see I clearly The trembling of the hand that holds the knife. Resentment, anger, tears, a pain now fierce, now muffled - I'm wounded, stung, and yet I love... He is All of my life, but I... I do not live - I suffer... How bitter is existence such as this! As to a mortal foe, in dozes scant and meagre The air I breathe he measures out.. Each breath I take is painful, yet... I breathe, for fresh air eager... But life ... life slowly ebbs... I cannot ward off death.