“A flower – shriveled, bare of fragrance,
Forgotten on a page – I see,
And instantly my soul awakens,
Filled with an aimless reverie:
When did it bloom? the last spring? earlier?
How long? Where was it plucked? By whom?
By foreign hands? or by familiar?
And why put here, as in a tomb?
To mark a tender meeting by it?
A parting with a precious one?
Or just a walk, alone and quiet,
In forests’ shade? in meadows’ sun?
Is she alive? Is he still with her?
Where is their haven at this hour?
Or did they both already wither,
Like this unfathomable flower?”
-Alexander Pushkin,The Flower
A poignant poem, so nostalgic. I thought I would present it as the love it was which was not revealed to the poet but only left one souvenir to tantalize him. Pushkin was the greatest of Russian poets and writers. I always see Pushkin as the soul of Russia. To this end and to celebrate the purity of his poetry, this is a mixture of all white components. 5 white musks form the foundation. Very romantic with the sophistication of modern musks combined with the earthy antique scents of old Russia. White sage, Russian lavender, stachys, and artemisia. Subtle but long lasting.