Alexander Pushkin Museum Park [antikvár]

rjn o Mikhailovskoye more than anywhere else are drawn all I who wish to meet Pushkin. They come in severe midwinter frost and snow, in the spring thaw when all is in full flood, in summer when Mikhailovskoye is, as Pushkin said, an earthly paradise, as well as in autumn when the countryside glows with all the hues of the rainbow. They come from all parts and in great numbers to pay homage to the poet. Everything here is a source of delight and wonder. The trees giant Russian oaks, limes, maples dating from Pushkin's time and groves of birch, pine, fir and alder. The reminders of times past old town and village sites, burial mounds and ancient stone monuments. The Svyatogorsky (Holy Hills) Monastery with its old cathedral church and sturdy stone wall. The country estates with their manor houses, wings, orchards and cottages "on hen's feet". And the wonderful parks of Petrovskoye, Trigorskoye and Mikhailovskoye with their enchanting avenues, labyrinths, grottos and arbours The radiant presence of the poet is sensed everywhere here. The days he spent here are forever enshrined in the poetry he wrote, inspired by these parts. His presence is sensed in Mikhailovskoye, in the house where he lived, suffered and wrote poetry, where miracles happened and he was himself amazed by his own creations. His presence is sensed in Trigorskoye, for which he had a particular affection and to which he forever pledged his heart. It is sensed in Petrovskoye, the pantheon of his ancestors and family museum. Particular places here had a magic charm for him, he was especially happy there. He treasured them and immortalised them in his verse. For this reason the simple names of Mikhailovskoye, Trigorskoye and Petrovskoye are today synonymous with the unfading charm and immortality of Pushkin's genius. Crossing the porch into the cottage of Pushkin's nurse or entering his study is a thrilling moment for us all. This is the heart of Mikhailovskoye. With deep emotion and sweet sorrow we approach Pushkin's last resting-place in the Svyatogorsky Monastery and stand beside the poet's grave. Everything here - the marble, the great trees and the many wreaths and flowers on the grave - whispers to us lines from Pushkin's poetic testament: