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XLIX

   Adrian waves,    O Brenta! Nay, I'll see you    and, filled anew with inspiration,  4 I'll hear your magic voice!    'Tis sacred to Apollo's nephews;    through the proud lyre of Albion    to me 'tis known, to me 'tis kindred.  8 In the voluptuousness of golden    Italy's nights at liberty I'll revel,    with a youthful Venetian,    now talkative, now mute, 12 swimming in a mysterious gondola;    with her my lips will find    the tongue of Petrarch and of love.

L

   Will the hour of my freedom come?    'Tis time, 'tis time! To it I call;    I roam above the sea,10 I wait for the right weather,  4 I beckon to the sails of ships.    Under the cope of storms, with waves disputing,    on the free crossway of the sea    when shall I start on my free course?  8 'Tis time to leave the dull shore of an element    inimical to me,    and sigh, 'mid the meridian swell, beneath the    sky of my Africa,11 12 for somber Russia, where    I suffered, where I loved,    where I buried my heart.

LI

   Onegin was prepared with me    to see strange lands;    but soon we were to be by fate  4 sundered for a long time.    'Twas then his father died.    Before Onegin there assembled    a greedy host of creditors.  8 Each has a mind and notion of his own.    Eugene, detesting litigations,    contented with his lot,    abandoned the inheritance to them, 12 perceiving no great loss therein,    or precognizing from afar    the demise of his aged uncle.

LII

   All of a sudden he indeed    got from the steward    a report that his uncle was nigh death in bed  4 and would be glad to bid farewell to him.    Eugene, the sad epistle having read,    incontinently to the rendezvous    drove headlong, traveling post,  8 and yawned already in anticipation,    preparing, for the sake of money,    for sighs, boredom, and guile    (and 'tis with this that I began my novel); 12 but when he reached apace his uncle's manor,    he found him laid already on the table    as a prepared tribute to earth.

LIII

   He found the grounds full of attendants;    to the dead man from every side    came driving foes and friends,  4 enthusiasts for funerals.    The dead man was interred,    the priests and guests ate, drank,    and solemnly dispersed thereafter,  8 as though they had been sensibly engaged.    Now our Onegin is a rural dweller,    of workshops, waters, forests, lands,    absolute lord (while up to then he'd been 12 an enemy of order and a wastrel),    and very glad to have exchanged    his former course for something.

LIV

   For two days new to him    seemed the secluded fields,    the coolness of the somber park,  4 the bubbling of the quiet brook;    by the third day, grove, hill, and field    did not engage him any more;    then somnolence already they induced;  8 then plainly he perceived    that in the country, too, the boredom was the same,    although there were no streets, no palaces,    no cards, no balls, no verses. 12 The hyp was waiting for him on the watch,    and it kept running after him    like a shadow or faithful wife.

LV

   I was born for the peaceful life,    for country quiet:    the lyre's voice in the wild is more resounding,  4 creative dreams are more alive.    To harmless leisures consecrated,    I wander by a wasteful lake    and far niente is my rule.  8 By every morn I am awakened    unto sweet mollitude and freedom;    little I read, a lot I sleep,    volatile fame do not pursue. 12 Was it not thus in former years,    that in inaction, in the [shade],    I spent my happiest days?