Евгений Онегин / Eugene Onegin. Александр Пушкин

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      Meantime, drink deeply of the flow

      Of frivolous existence, friends;

      Its insignificance I know

      And care but little for its ends.

      To dreams I long have closed mine eyes,

      Yet sometimes banished hopes will rise

      And agitate my heart again;

      And thus it is ’twould cause me pain

      Without the faintest trace to leave

      This world. I do not praise desire,

      Yet still apparently aspire

      My mournful fate in verse to weave,

      That like a friendly voice its tone

      Rescue me from oblivion.

      Perchance some heart ’twill agitate,

      And then the stanzas of my theme

      Will not, preserved by kindly Fate,

      Perish absorbed by Lethe’s stream.

      Then it may be, O flattering tale,

      Some future ignoramus shall

      My famous portrait indicate

      And cry: he was a poet great!

      My gratitude do not disdain,

      Admirer of the peaceful Muse,

      Whose memory doth not refuse

      My light productions to retain,

      Whose hands indulgently caress

      The bays of age and helplessness.

      “Whither away? Deuce take the bard!” —

      “Good-bye, Onegin, I must go.” —

      “I won’t detain you; but ’tis hard

      To guess how you the eve pull through.” —

      “At Larina’s.” – “Hem, that is queer!

      Pray is it not a tough affair

      Thus to assassinate the eve?” —

      “Not at all.” – “That I can’t conceive!

      ‘Tis something of this sort I deem.

      In the first place, say, am I right?

      A Russian household simple quite,

      Who welcome guests with zeal extreme,

      Preserves and an eternal prattle

      About the rain and flax and cattle.” —

      “No misery I see in that” —

      “Boredom, my friend, behold the ill – ”

      “Your fashionable world I hate,

      Domestic life attracts me still,

      Where – “ – “What! another eclogue spin?

      For God’s sake, Lenski, don’t begin!

      What! really going? ’Tis too bad!

      But Lenski, I should be so glad

      Would you to me this Phyllis show,

      Fair source of every fine idea,

      Verses and tears et cetera.

      Present me.” – “You are joking.” – “No.” —

      “Delighted.” – “When?” – “This very night.

      They will receive us with delight.”

      Whilst homeward by the nearest route

      Our heroes at full gallop sped,

      Can we not stealthily make out

      What they in conversation said? —

      “How now, Onegin, yawning still?” —

      “‘Tis habit, Lenski.” – “Is your ill

      More troublesome than usual?” – “No!

      How dark the night is getting though!

      Hallo, Andriushka, onward race!

      The drive becomes monotonous —

      Well! Larina appears to us

      An ancient lady full of grace. —

      That bilberry wine, I’m sore afraid,

      The deuce with my inside has played.”

      “Say, of the two which was Tattiana?”

      “She who with melancholy face

      And silent as the maid Svetlana[27]

      Hard by the window took her place.” —

      “The younger, you’re in love with her!”

      “Well!” – “I the elder should prefer,

      Were I like you a bard by trade —

      In Olga’s face no life’s displayed.

      ‘Tis a Madonna of Vandyk,

      An oval countenance and pink,

      Yon silly moon upon the brink

      Of the horizon she is like!” —

      Vladimir something curtly said

      Nor further comment that night made.

      Meantime Onegin’s apparition

      At Larina’s abode produced

      Quite a sensation; the position

      To all good neighbours’ sport conduced.

      Endless conjectures all propound

      And secretly their views expound.

      What jokes and guesses now abound,

      A beau is for Tattiana found!

      In fact, some people were assured

      The wedding-day had been arranged,

      But the date subsequently changed

      Till proper rings could be procured.

      On Lenski’s matrimonial fate

      They long ago had held debate.

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