My poor Lenski! Pining away,
she did not weep for long.
Alas! The young fiancée
4 is to her woe untrue.
Another ravished her attention,
another managed with love's flattery
to lull to sleep her suffering:
8 an uhlan knew how to enthrall her,
an uhlan by her soul is loved;
and lo! with him already at the altar
she modestly beneath the bridal crown
12 stands with bent head,
fire in her lowered eyes,
a light smile on her lips.
XI
My poor Lenski! Beyond the grave,
in the confines of deaf eternity,
was the despondent bard perturbed
4 by the fell news of the betrayal?
Or on the Lethe lulled to sleep,
blest with insensibility, the poet
no longer is perturbed by anything,
8 and closed and mute is earth to him?...
'Tis so! Indifferent oblivion
beyond the sepulcher awaits us.
The voice of foes, of friends, of loves abruptly
12 falls silent. Only over the estate
the angry chorus of the heirs
starts an indecent squabble.
XII
And soon the ringing voice of Olya
was in the Larin family stilled.
A captive of his lot, the uhlan
4 had to rejoin his regiment with her.
Bitterly shedding floods of tears,
the old dame, as she took leave of her daughter,
seemed scarce alive,
8 but Tanya could not cry;
only a deadly pallor covered
her melancholy face.
When everybody came out on the porch,
12 and one and all, taking leave, bustled
around the chariot of the newly wed,
Tatiana saw them off.
XIII
And long did she, as through a mist,
gaze after them...
And now Tatiana is alone, alone!
4 Alas! Companion of so many years,
her youthful doveling,
her own dear bosom friend,
has been by fate borne far away,
8 has been from her forever separated.
She, like a shade, roams aimlessly;
now into the deserted garden looks.
Nowhere, in nothing, are there joys for her,
12 and she finds no relief
for tears suppressed,
and torn asunder is her heart.
XIV
And in the cruel solitude
stronger her passion burns,
and louder does her heart of distant
4 Onegin speak to her.
She will not see him;
she must abhor in him
the slayer of her brother;
8 the poet perished... but already none
remembers him, already to another
his promised bride has given herself.
The poet's memory has sped by
12 as smoke across an azure sky;
perhaps there are two hearts that yet
grieve for him.... Wherefore grieve?
XV
'Twas evening. The sky darkened. Waters
streamed quietly. The beetle churred.
The choral throngs already were dispersing.
4 Across the river, smoking, glowed already
the fire of fishermen. In open country
by the moon's silvery light,
sunk in her dreams,
8 long did Tatiana walk alone. She walked,
she walked. And suddenly before her from a hill
she sees a manor house, a village,
a grove below hill, and a garden
12 above a luminous river.
She gazes, and the heart in her
faster and harder has begun to beat.
XVI
Doubts trouble her:
“Shall I go on? Shall I go back?... He is not here.
They do not know me.... I shall glance
4 at the house, at that garden.”
And so downhill Tatiana walks,
scarce breathing; casts around
a gaze full of perplexity...
8 and enters a deserted courtyard.
Dogs toward her
dash, barking… At her frightened cry
a household brood of serf boys
12 has noisily converged. Not without fighting
the boys dispersed the hounds,
taking the lady under their protection.