Meanwhile enjoy your fill of it
— of this lightsome life, friends!
Its insignificance I realize
4 and little am attached to it;
to phantoms I have closed my eyelids;
but distant hopes
sometimes disturb my heart:
8 without an imperceptible trace, I'd be sorry
to leave the world.
I live, I write not for the sake of praise;
but my sad lot, meseems,
12 I would desire to glorify,
so that a single sound at least
might, like a faithful friend, remind one about me.
And it will touch
the heart of someone; and preserved by fate,
perhaps in Lethe will not drown
4 the strophe made by me;
perhaps — flattering hope! —
a future dunce will point
at my famed portrait
8 and utter: “That now was a poet!”
So do accept my thanks, admirer
of the peaceful Aonian maids,
0 you whose memory will preserve
12 my volatile creations,
you whose benevolent hand will pat
the old man's laurels!
Elle était fille; elle était amoureuse.
Malfilâtre
“Whither? Ah me, those poets!”
“Good-by, Onegin. Time for me to leave.”
“I do not hold you, but where do
4 you spend your evenings?” “At the Larins'.”
“Now, that's a fine thing. Mercy, man —
and you don't find it difficult
thus every evening to kill time?”
8 “Not in the least.” “I cannot understand.
From here I see what it is like:
first — listen, am I right? —
a simple Russian family,
12 a great solicitude for guests,
jam, never-ending talk
of rain, of flax, of cattle yard.”
“So far I do not see what's bad about it.”
“Ah, but the boredom — that is bad, my friend.”
“Your fashionable world I hate;
4 dearer to me is the domestic circle
in which I can…” “Again an eclogue!
Ah, that will do, old boy, for goodness' sake.
Well, so you're off; I'm very sorry.
8 Oh, Lenski, listen — is there any way
for me to see this Phyllis,
subject of thoughts, and pen,
and tears, and rhymes, et cetera?
12 Present me.” “You are joking.” “No.”
“I'd gladly.” “When?” “Now, if you like.
They will be eager to receive us.”
“Let's go.” And off the two friends drove;
they have arrived; on them are lavished
the sometimes onerous attentions
4 of hospitable ancientry.
The ritual of the treat is known:
in little dishes jams are brought,
on an oilcloth'd small table there is set
8 a jug of lingonberry water.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
They by the shortest road
fly home at full career.17
Now let us eavesdrop furtively
4 upon our heroes' conversation.
“Well now, Onegin, you are yawning.”
“A habit, Lenski.” “But somehow
you are more bored than ever.” “No, the same.
8 I say, it's dark already in the field;
faster! come on, come on, Andryushka!
What silly country!
Ah, apropos: Dame Larin
12 is simple but a very nice old lady;
I fear that lingonberry water
may not unlikely do me harm.