Eugene Onegin (Russian Literature Classic). Alexander Pushkin
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Название: Eugene Onegin (Russian Literature Classic)

Автор: Alexander Pushkin

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

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isbn: 4057664559456

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СКАЧАТЬ truth he had the happy trick

      Without constraint in conversation

      Of touching lightly every theme.

      Silent, oracular ye’d see him

      Amid a serious disputation,

      Then suddenly discharge a joke

      The ladies’ laughter to provoke.

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      Latin is just now not in vogue,

      But if the truth I must relate,

      Oneguine knew enough, the rogue

      A mild quotation to translate,

      A little Juvenal to spout,

      With “vale” finish off a note;

      Two verses he could recollect

      Of the Aeneid, but incorrect.

      In history he took no pleasure,

      The dusty chronicles of earth

      For him were but of little worth,

      Yet still of anecdotes a treasure

      Within his memory there lay,

      From Romulus unto our day.

      VII

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      For empty sound the rascal swore he

      Existence would not make a curse,

      Knew not an iamb from a choree,

      Although we read him heaps of verse.

      Homer, Theocritus, he jeered,

      But Adam Smith to read appeared,

      And at economy was great;

      That is, he could elucidate

      How empires store of wealth unfold,

      How flourish, why and wherefore less

      If the raw product they possess

      The medium is required of gold.

      The father scarcely understands

      His son and mortgages his lands.

      VIII

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      But upon all that Eugene knew

      I have no leisure here to dwell,

      But say he was a genius who

      In one thing really did excel.

      It occupied him from a boy,

      A labour, torment, yet a joy,

      It whiled his idle hours away

      And wholly occupied his day —

      The amatory science warm,

      Which Ovid once immortalized,

      For which the poet agonized

      Laid down his life of sun and storm

      On the steppes of Moldavia lone,

      To exile self-consigned,

      With self, society, existence, discontent,

      I visit in these days, with melancholy mind,

      The country whereunto a mournful age thee sent.

      Ovid thus enumerates the causes which brought about his banishment:

      “Perdiderint quum me duo crimina, carmen et error,

      Alterius facti culpa silenda mihi est.”

      Ovidii Nasonis Tristium, lib. ii. 207.

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      How soon he learnt deception’s art,

      Hope to conceal and jealousy,

      False confidence or doubt to impart,

      Sombre or glad in turn to be,

      Haughty appear, subservient,

      Obsequious or indifferent!

      What languor would his silence show,

      How full of fire his speech would glow!

      How artless was the note which spoke

      Of love again, and yet again;

      How deftly could he transport feign!

      How bright and tender was his look,

      Modest yet daring! And a tear

      Would at the proper time appear.

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      How well he played the greenhorn’s part

      To cheat the inexperienced fair,

      Sometimes by pleasing СКАЧАТЬ