Like dreams of infant, sweet and dear,
Like sailing goddess of the gloom,
Of mysteries and sighs - the Moon.
He sang of missed ones, storm del mar,
Of something, of the murky far
And of the roses of romance;
He sang of lands of far away,
Where had in silence cried by day,
Where tears fallen; hence,
Of faded colours of the world,
Not being 18 years old.
X
On pel lyubov', lyubvi poslushnyj,
I pesn' ego byla yasna,
Kak mysli devy prostodushnoj,
Kak son mladenca, kak luna
V pustynyah neba bezmyatezhnyh,
Boginya tajn i vzdohov nezhnyh.
On pel razluku i pechal',
I nechto, i tumannu dal',
I romanticheskie rozy;
On pel te dal'ne strany,
Gde dolgo v lono tishiny
Lilis' ego zhivye slezy;
On pel pobleklyj zhizni cvet
Bez malogo v os'mnadcat' let.
XI
In desert where Onegin only
Could value Lensky's gifts,
The latter couldn't stand the phony
Their neighbours' feasts and eats.
As in discussion covered topics
Were not the jewels of rhetorics,
But decent chat of harvest, kin,
Wine, dogs and dreams had seen.
Although it didn't provide the flame,
The passion of poetic strength,
It wasn't sharp or smart or tense,
But mostly mundane and the same
What their good wives chit-chatted `bout
Was much more worse and much more loud.
XI
V pustyne, gde odin Evgenij
Mog ocenit' ego dary,
Gospod sosedstvennyh selenij
Emu ne nravilis' piry;
Bezhal on ih besedy shumnoj.
Ih razgovor blagorazumnyj
O senokose, o vine,
O psarne, o svoej rodne,
Konechno, ne blistal ni chuvstvom,
Ni poeticheskim ognem,
Ni ostrotoyu, ni umom,
Ni obshchezhitiya iskusstvom;
No razgovor ih milyh zhen
Gorazdo men'she byl umen.
XII
As rich and handsome, Lensky was received
In every house as perspective groom;
Such was tradition in the countryside perceived
And every neighbour's daughter in the bloom
Intended was for fellow semi-Russian;
If he comes over then at once discussion
By little, like the slightest tingle,
Turns to drawbacks of being single;
And then he's called to samovar
And Dunya serves the drink,
They wisper `Girl, observe!' and wink
Then bring to her guitar,
And good my Lord! she starts to squeek:
To golden palace come for me to seek!
XII
Bogat, horosh soboyu, Lenskij
Vezde byl prinyat kak zhenih;
Takov obychaj derevenskij;
Vse dochek prochili svoih
Za polurusskogo soseda;
Vzojdet li on, totchas beseda
Zavodit slovo storonoj
O skuke zhizni holostoj;
Zovut soseda k samovaru,
A Dunya razlivaet chaj,
Ej shepchut: "Dunya, primechaj! "
Potom prinosyat i gitaru:
I zapishchit ona (bog moj!):
Pridi v chertog ko mne zlatoj!
XIII
But Lensky didn't want, of course,
To ties of marriage to be bound,
But sought becoming bit more close
With E.Onegin, which was found.
Made friends. But stone and waves,
The coldest ice and hottest flames
Have more in common, differ less;
At first, it bored them to death
Then came to liking one another,
And every day they side by side
Joined for a horseback-ride
Until became unseparatable rather.
So people (I'm first t'confess to you)
Make friends because of nothing else to do.
XIII
No Lenskij, ne imev konechno
Ohoty uzy braka nest',
S Oneginym zhelal serdechno
Znakomstvo pokoroche svest'.
Oni soshlis'. Volna i kamen',
Stihi i proza, led i plamen'
Ne stol' razlichny mezh soboj.
Sperva vzaimnoj raznotoj
Oni drug drugu byli skuchny;
Potom ponravilis'; potom
S®ezzhalis' kazhdyj den' verhom,
I skoro stali nerazluchny.
Tak lyudi (pervyj kayus' ya)
Ot delat' nechego druz'ya.
XIV
Friendship like this exists no more.
As with the prejudice we're done,
We view the rest as round zero
Regarding ourselves as `one'.
We aim at Napoleon to be;
Bipedal creatures millions we see
As simple tools fulfilling our plans.
We view as alien and funny feelings, sense.
Evgeniy was bearable compared to the rest;
Though he knew well the human kind
And as a rule held it in contempt and out of sight
But (as exemption t'every rule or test)
He did distinguish rare, rare men,
And even he respected some of them.
XIV
No druzhby net i toj mezh nami.
Vse predrassudki istrebya,
My pochitaem vseh nulyami,
A edinicami - sebya.
My vse glyadim v Napoleony;
Dvunogih tvarej milliony
Dlya nas orudie odno;
Nam chuvstvo diko i smeshno.
Snosnee mnogih byl Evgenij;
Hot' on lyudej konechno znal
I voobshche ih preziral , -
No (pravil net bez isklyuchenij)
Inyh on ochen' otlichal
I vchuzhe chuvstvo uvazhal.
XV
He listened t'Lensky with a smile,
To poet's fervent, ardent speech,
Observed his mind in search for why,
Inspired sight and cheeks of peach.
Onegin found these were new for him;
While he did try to cool his steam
With words reserved prepared in advance
But thought: I'd be so stupid taking chance
To meddle in his temporary bliss; Oh, Lord!
Without me that time will come;
Let him be odd, be dreamy and be rum,
Believing in the perfect world;
Let us forgive youth's fever and illusion
As well as youth' excitement and delusion.
XV
On slushal Lenskogo s ulybkoj.
Poeta pylkij razgovor,
I um, eshche v suzhden'yah zybkoj,
I vechno vdohnovennyj vzor, -
Oneginu vs£ bylo novo;
On ohladitel'noe slovo
V ustah staralsya uderzhat'
I dumal: glupo mne meshat'
Ego minutnomu blazhenstvu;
I bez menya pora pridet;
Puskaj pokamest on zhivet
Da verit mira sovershenstvu;
Prostim goryachke yunyh let
I yunyj zhar i yunyj bred.
XVI
Just everything could lead to verbal fights,
To meditation, revelation and upheaval:
Some treaties of some vanished tribes,
The fruits of science, the good and evil,
And superstitions ages old,
Enigmae of sepulchre deathly cold,
The fate and life in their turn
Their car'ful judgement undergone.
The poet in the ardour of discourse
En reverie read out-loud verses -
Of northern poets cited clauses.
Onegin, he, despite was used to prose,
Did heed him diligently though did not
Get words and issues he then heard
XVI.
Mezh imi vs£ rozhdalo spory
I k razmyshleniyu vleklo:
Plemen minuvshih dogovory,
Plody nauk, dobro i zlo,
I predrassudki vekovye,
I groba tajny rokovye,
Sud'ba i zhizn' v svoyu chredu,
Vse podvergalos' ih sudu.
Poet v zharu svoih suzhdenij
CHital, zabyvshis', mezhdu tem
Otryvki severnyh poem,
I snishoditel'nyj Evgenij,
Hot' ih ne mnogo ponimal,
Prilezhno yunoshe vnimal.
XVII
And often passions, hot and cool,
Preoccupied my hermits' minds.
Once freed of their restless rule,
Onegin spoke of them sometimes
With sigh of pity and regret.
Is blessed the one who passions had
But left them after all; a lot
More blessed the one who had them not,
Who cooled his love with distant journey,
His rivals cooled with irony and puns,
Who was not jealous even once
While with his friends and wife was yawning
Who did not trust the legacy he got
To cunning cards and fickle lot.
XVII.
No chashche zanimali strasti
Umy pustynnikov moih.
Ushed ot ih myatezhnoj vlasti,
Onegin govoril ob nih
S nevol'nym vzdohom sozhalen'ya.
Blazhen, kto vedal ih volnen'ya
I nakonec ot nih otstal;
Blazhennej tot, kto ih ne znal,
Kto ohlazhdal lyubov' -- razlukoj,
Vrazhdu -- zlosloviem; poroj
Zeval s druz'yami i s zhenoj,
Revnivoj ne trevozhas' mukoj,
I dedov vernyj kapital
Kovarnoj dvojke ne vveryal.
XVIII
When all of us become allied
Around banner of judicious quiet
When flames of passion in the heart subside
We laugh at passion's willful riot,
Its gust and its belated comments
And passion's little acid torments. -
When we surrender having no concession,
Sometimes to others' tongue of passion
We love to listen, love to hear.-
It touches softly our heart.
Likewise forgotten in his hut
Old crippled man so gladly gives his ear
To stories brought him in rush
By some young men avec moustache
XVIII.
Kogda pribegnem my pod znamya
Blagorazumnoj tishiny,
Kogda strastej ugasnet plamya
I nam stanovyatsya smeshny
Ih svoevol'stvo il' poryvy
I zapozdalye otzyvy, --
Smirennye ne bez truda,
My lyubim slushat' inogda
Strastej chuzhih yazyk myatezhnyj,
I nam on serdce shevelit.
Tak tochno staryj invalid
Ohotno klonit sluh prilezhnyj
Rasskazam yunyh usachej,
Zabytyj v hizhine svoej.
XIX
Likewise cannot conceal a thing
That flashy and flamboyant youth.
They'll bring out their joy and grim
And love without a permission or excuse.
Considering himself a kind of love-impared,
Onegin listen'd thoughtfully as if he cared
To deepest secrets poet told -
He loved t'confess and have his heart unfold;
His candid conscience
He bared in a way naive.
Onegin easily archived
Access to poet story, wild like oceans,
About his love so turbulent and rich -
For us familiar for long. To it now let us switch.
XIX.
Zato i plamennaya mladost'
Ne mozhet nichego skryvat'.
Vrazhdu, lyubov', pechal' i radost'
Ona gotova razboltat'.
V lyubvi schitayas' invalidom,
Onegin slushal s vazhnym vidom,
Kak, serdca ispoved' lyubya,
Poet vyskazyval sebya;
Svoyu doverchivuyu sovest'
On prostodushno obnazhal.
Evgenij bez truda uznal
Ego lyubvi mladuyu povest',
Obil'nyj chuvstvami rasskaz,
Davno ne novymi dlya nas.
XX
Oh, how he loved! He loved in such a way
Nobody does in our time.
To such a love is sentenced by to-day
Few poets fervent soul for an unmentioned crime:
Always and everywhere - dreaming, fever, fire,
And that familiar desire
And that familiar sad look.
And neither distant trip he took,
Nor years and years of separation,
Nor hours dedicated to the muse,
Nor to the fun (he tried himself t'amuse),
Nor foreign lands, nor to the studies dedication
Could him disperse, could alter poet's soul
Warmed by pure virgin fire on the whole
XX.
Ah, on lyubil, kak v nashi leta
Uzhe ne lyubyat; kak odna
Bezumnaya dusha poeta
Eshche lyubit' osuzhdena:
Vsegda, vezde odno mechtan'e,
Odno privychnoe zhelan'e,
Odna privychnaya pechal'.
Ni ohlazhdayushchaya dal',
Ni dolgie leta razluki,
Ni muzam dannye chasy,
Ni chuzhezemnye krasy,
Ni shum veselij, ni nauki
Dushi ne izmenili v nem,
Sogretoj devstvennym ognem.
XXI.
When hardly into teens, by Olga captured,
Not knowing yet how heart may hurt,
He was a witness humble, yet enraptured,
Of games she played, of toys she got.
And in the shade of oak-wood
Together play the games they would.
And neighbours, parents, after all
Foretold them t'join under wedding toll.
Deep in the country under humble seal
Filled with innocence she grew,
And was in dear parents' view
A blooming secret lily, fair daffodil,
Concealed in high and wild field weed
Unknown to butterflies and bees it hid.
XXI.
CHut' otrok, Ol'goyu plenennyj,
Serdechnyh muk eshche ne znav,
On byl svidetel' umilennyj
Ee mladencheskih zabav;
V teni hranitel'noj dubravy
On razdelyal ee zabavy,
I detyam prochili vency
Druz'ya sosedy, ih otcy.
V glushi, pod seniyu smirennoj,
Nevinnoj prelesti polna,
V glazah roditelej, ona
Cvela kak landysh potaennyj,
Ne znaemyj v trave gluhoj
Ni motyl'kami, ni pcheloj.
XXII
She was the first to gift the poet
With dream of passionate delight,
The thought she caused was first t'be followed
By moan of the poet's pipe.
Farewell, oh games of days of gold!
He fell in love with groves that old,
With solitude, with silence, gloom,
And night, and stars, and Moon.
The Moon - the heaven's icon-lamp
To which we used to dedicate
Walks in the dusk and in the shade
And tears - consolation of the ramp...
But now we see in it a mere substitute
For lanterns wan: too big, but cute.
XXII.
Ona poetu podarila
Mladyh vostorgov pervyj son,
I mysl' ob nej odushevila
Ego cevnicy pervyj ston.
Prostite, igry zolotye!
On roshchi polyubil gustye,
Uedinen'e, tishinu,
I Noch', i Zvezdy, i Lunu,
Lunu, nebesnuyu lampadu,
Kotoroj posvyashchali my
Progulki sred' vechernej t'my,
I slezy, tajnyh muk otradu...
No nynche vidim tol'ko v nej
Zamenu tusklyh fonarej.
XXIII.
She's always modest, always is agreeing,
And cheerful like the morning sun,
Like poet's life is open, not a thing concealing,
Nice like a kiss of love that's just begun.
Her eyes are blue like springtime skies;
The smile, and flaxen locks, again - the eyes
And movements, voice, slender waist-
These all you'll find in Olga... But don't waste
Your time, just open any of heart-braking books,
There must be her por-trait, I bet,
Once real love for such I had,
But now am tired of these standard looks;
Now let me, dear miss or mister,
Proceed with you to Olga's elder sister.
XXIII.
Vsegda skromna, vsegda poslushna,
Vsegda kak utro vesela,
Kak zhizn' poeta prostodushna,
Kak poceluj lyubvi mila,
Glaza kak nebo golubye;
Ulybka, lokony l'nyanye,
Dvizhen'ya, golos, legkij stan,
Vs£ v Ol'ge... no lyuboj roman
Voz'mite i najdete verno
Ee portret: on ochen' mil,
YA prezhde sam ego lyubil,
No nadoel on mne bezmerno.
Pozvol'te mne, chitatel' moj,
Zanyat'sya starsheyu sestroj.
XXIV
The sister was baptized Tatyana...
We must be first a name like that
To put on tender pages of the piano
Novel, and there's nothing to be smiling at.
What's wrong with it? It's nice, it has the sound,
But, yes, I know this name's a sort of bound
To times long gone, to things now out of fashion,
To servant rooms! We all must make confession:
There isn't much of taste been left
In ourselves, in our names (and might
Be in the poetry we write):
For us enlightenment is time-theft,
All what we learn is questionable art
Of being finical and not too smart.
XXIV
Ee sestra zvalas' Tat'yana...
Vpervye imenem takim
Stranicy nezhnye romana
My svoevol'no osvyatim.
I chto zh? ono priyatno, zvuchno;
No s nim, ya znayu, nerazluchno
Vospominan'e stariny
Il' devich'ej! My vse dolzhny
Priznat'sya: vkusu ochen' malo
U nas i v nashih imenah
(Ne govorim uzh o stihah);
Nam prosveshchen'e ne pristalo
I nam dostalos' ot nego
ZHemanstvo, - bol'she nichego.
XXV
But, anyway, Tatyana was her name.
She had nom beauty of her sister,
Nor rosy freshness equally same,
T'attract of glances twister.
Wild, sad, and taciturn, not vivid,
Like forest dear timid,
She seemed a stranger in her home,
Among her family - alone.
She didn't know how to caress
Her father and her mother,
As kid she'd stand alone than with the other
Kids play in noise and in mess.
And often lonely all the day
By window silently she could there stay.
XXV
Itak, ona zvalas' Tat'yanoj.
Ni krasotoj sestry svoej,
Ni svezhest'yu ee rumyanoj
Ne privlekla b ona ochej.
Dika, pechal'na, molchaliva,
Kak lan' lesnaya boyazliva,
Ona v sem'e svoej rodnoj
Kazalas' devochkoj chuzhoj.
Ona laskat'sya ne umela
K otcu, ni k materi svoej;
Ditya sama, v tolpe detej
Igrat' i prygat' ne hotela
I chasto celyj den' odna
Sidela molcha u okna.
XXVI
And pensiveness, her dear friend
From cradle days she was a baby
Filled up her spare-time content
With dreams as if a fairy, maybe.
Her softest fingers never touched a needle,
On tambour plate appeared no silk riddle,
Nor pattern did as neither did design,
However vivid was or fine.
A sign of future wish to rule,
With servile dolls a kid prepares
Through games to make no stupid errors
Along the traps of which the world is full.
And to the doll retells a daughter (or a son)
The lesson's just been taught by Mom.
XXVI
Zadumchivost', ee podruga
Ot samyh kolybel'nyh dnej,
Techen'e sel'skogo dosuga
Mechtami ukrashala ej.
Ee iznezhennye pal'cy
Ne znali igl; sklonyas' na pyal'cy,
Uzorom shelkovym ona
Ne ozhivlyala polotna.
Ohoty vlastvovat' primeta,
S poslushnoj kukloyu ditya
Prigotovlyaetsya shutya
K prilichiyu, zakonu sveta,
I vazhno povtoryaet ej
Uroki mamen'ki svoej.
XXVII
But even as a kid Tatyana never
Played with a doll or happened to discuss
With her new fashions what-so-ever
Or city news, its gossips or its fuss.
She didn't like t'engage in follies
Or other games with other kids; but horror stories
Were what did capture young girl's mind
In winter long and scary night.
When nanny gathered on wide lawn
For Olga little girls she had befriended,
To play with them Tatyana not intended
Preferring t'stay somewhere, be alone
For bored she was with pals' loud laughter
And noisy games that followed after.
XXVII
No kukly dazhe v eti gody
Tat'yana v ruki ne brala;
Pro vesti goroda, pro mody
Besedy s neyu ne vela.
I byli detskie prokazy
Ej chuzhdy; strashnye rasskazy
Zimoyu v temnote nochej
Plenyali bol'she serdce ej.
Kogda zhe nyanya sobirala
Dlya Ol'gi na shirokij lug
Vseh malen'kih ee podrug,
Ona v gorelki ne igrala,
Ej skuchen byl i zvonkij smeh,
I shum ih vetrenyh uteh.
XXVIII
To greet Aurora coming out,
She loved to stand on balcony before sunrise,
In time when stars seem just to be about
To fade away on getting pale high skies,
When edge of earth lights up so low
And wind, dawn's partner, starts to blow,
When day his power starts t'embark.
In winter, when the lightless dark
Possesses hemisphere longer,
And longer dreams the lazy East
In silence calm with Moon in mist
When cold grows faster stronger,
She woke in neither morning nor in night
And had the bedside candle light.
XXVIII
Ona lyubila na balkone
Preduprezhdat' zari voshod,
Kogda na blednom nebosklone
Zvezd ischezaet horovod,
I tiho kraj zemli svetleet,
I, vestnik utra, veter veet,
I vshodit postepenno den'.
Zimoj, kogda nochnaya ten'
Polmirom dole obladaet,
I dole v prazdnoj tishine,
Pri otumanennoj lune,
Vostok lenivyj pochivaet,
V privychnyj chas probuzhdena
Vstavala pri svechah ona.
XXIX
Since days of childhood she was into books,
They substituted her the life itself.
She fell in love with stories of two crooks,
Rousseau and Richardson, in novels on her shelf.
Her father was good man, a decent one,
Left in the century just passed, its son,
No harm in books he ever could perceive
As never touched a single printed leaf.
He thought them be a trifle, kind of toy,
He never slightest care took
What was his daughter secret book
Laid under pillow, calm and coy.
His wife was woman kind of such
That loved old Richardson so much
XXIX
Ej rano nravilis' romany;
Oni ej zamenyali vse;
Ona vlyublyalasya v obmany
I Richardsona i Russo.
Otec ee byl dobryj malyj,
V proshedshem veke zapozdalyj;
No v knigah ne vidal vreda;
On, ne chitaya nikogda,
Ih pochital pustoj igrushkoj
I ne zabotilsya o tom,
Kakoj u dochki tajnyj tom
Dremal do utra pod podushkoj.
ZHena zh ego byla sama
Ot Richardsona bez uma.
XXX
She loved the books by Richardson
But not because them read, alas,
Nor due to fact that Grandison
She would prefer to old Lovlas.
But long ago princess Aline,
Her moscow cousin very fine,
Did talk a lot about them.
Was fiance her man back then,
But she longed for another person,
Who looked more handsome and refined,
Attracted her with more profound mind,
Who seemed to her a way more awesome:
This Grandison, who was that fine and smart,
Was quite a gambler and a sergeant in the guard.
XXX
Ona lyubila Richardsona
Ne potomu, chtoby prochla,
Ne potomu, chtob Grandisona
Ona Lovlasu predpochla;
No v starinu knyazhna Alina,
Ee moskovskaya kuzina,
Tverdila chasto ej ob nih.
V to vremya byl eshche zhenih
Ee suprug, no po nevole;
Ona vzdyhala o drugom,
Kotoryj serdcem i umom
Ej nravilsya gorazdo bole:
Sej Grandison byl slavnyj frant,
Igrok i gvardii serzhant.
XXXI
Like his outfits, her dresses were
Well-made and followed couture haut;
But there was none of her opinion to care
And to the altar girl was brought.
To make her sorrow gradually fade,
The clever husband too her to estate
That was quite far from city in the countryside
Where she amongst some strangers had t'reside.
At first she cried, smashed china - was enraged,
And even tried to seek divorce,
But things went smoothly not bit worse,
In household routine she got engaged -
Got used. The habit is God's gift, it's His tribute:
To happiness it's equal substitute.
XXXI
Kak on, ona byla odeta
Vsegda po mode i k licu;
No, ne sprosyas' ee soveta,
Devicu povezli k vencu.
I, chtob ee rasseyat' gore,
Razumnyj muzh uehal vskore
V svoyu derevnyu, gde ona,
Bog znaet kem okruzhena,
Rvalas' i plakala snachala,
S suprugom chut' ne razvelas';
Potom hozyajstvom zanyalas',
Privykla i dovol'na stala.
Privychka svyshe nam dana:
Zamena schastiyu ona.
XXXII
The habit sweetened sorrow's pain
She'd thought she couldn't bear;
But soon she found out way
Placated her forever:
She by the way found out means
To rule husband unsuspecting this,
To govern him like autocrat -
And things went better after that.
She ran estate with iron hand,
Ran budget and conserved mush-rooms,
Shaved heads of servants, serves and grooms,
On Saturdays to banya went,
And beat her maids up when mad -
T'her husband not reporting that.
XXXII
Privychka usladila gore,
Neotrazimoe nichem;
Otkrytie bol'shoe vskore
Ee uteshilo sovsem:
Ona mezh delom i dosugom
Otkryla tajnu, kak suprugom
Samoderzhavno upravlyat',
I vs£ togda poshlo na stat'.
Ona ezzhala po rabotam,
Solila na zimu griby,
Vela rashody, brila lby,
Hodila v banyu po subbotam,
Sluzhanok bila oserdyas' -
Vse eto muzha ne sprosyas'.
XXXIII
In albums of her friends and kin
She wrote with blood as ink in pen
And called Praskovia `Pauline'
And spoke as if she sang,
She wore a corset though too tight,
And Russian `N' t'pronounce liked
The nasal way French people do;
But soon got tired of these too;
And she forgot princess Aline
And corset, albums, poems she collected -
The touchy ones t'which girls so well reacted,
And called Akulka maid she used to call Seline,
And had remodeled a bonnet
And quilted housecoat she hidden had.
XXXIII
Byvalo, pisyvala krov'yu
Ona v al'bomy nezhnyh dev,
Zvala Polinoyu Praskov'yu
I govorila naraspev,
Korset nosila ochen' uzkij,
I russkij N kak N francuzskij
Proiznosit' umela v nos;
No skoro vse perevelos';
Korset, al'bom, knyazhnu Alinu,
Stishkov chuvstvitel'nyh tetrad'
Ona zabyla; stala zvat'
Akul'koj prezhnyuyu Selinu
I obnovila nakonec
Na vate shlafor i chepec.
XXXIV
Her husband's love was very tender -
He cared not of what she did,
He trusted her, in business did not enter,
In dressing gown came dawn to eat;
His life flowed smoothly at a stable pace;
By evenings visited his place
Of neighbours friendly flock,
Friends with whom easy was to joke,
And gossip, and sometimes complain -
Thus time was spent;
And by the way was Olga sent
T'prepare tea for those who came,
Tea followed supper, then time approached to sleep,
And at this point guests would start to leave.
XXXIV
No muzh lyubil ee serdechno,
V ee zatei ne vhodil,
Vo vsem ej veroval bespechno,
A sam v halate el i pil;
Pokojno zhizn' ego katilas';
Pod vecher inogda shodilas'
Sosedej dobraya sem'ya,
Neceremonnye druz'ya,
I potuzhit' i pozloslovit'
I posmeyat'sya koj o chem.
Prohodit vremya; mezhdu tem
Prikazhut Ol'ge chaj gotovit',
Tam uzhin, tam i spat' pora,
I gosti edut so dvora.
XXXV
In their life they didn't trait and didn't amend
The customs of the gracious past,
Had pancakes rich on winter's last weekend,
And twice a year they had fast,
They loved round dancing, round swing,
Folk songs at dinner table to sing,
On day of Trinity when people at the church
Would gather service there to watch,
To listen t'it concealing yawn,
When moved the two would sure drop
Three tears, then they'd stop;
Like air needed kvas alone,
At their table it was strictly quite observed
T'have their guests according to the rank be served.
XXXV
Oni hranili v zhizni mirnoj
Privychki miloj stariny;
U nih na maslenice zhirnoj
Vodilis' russkie bliny;
Dva raza v god oni goveli;
Lyubili kruglye kacheli,
Podblyudny pesni, horovod;
V den' Troicyn, kogda narod
Zevaya slushaet moleben,
Umil'no na puchok zari
Oni ronyali slezki tri;
Im kvas kak vozduh byl potreben,
I za stolom u nih gostyam
Nosili blyuda po chinam.
XXXVI
In such a life they both were growing old.
And finally sepulchre's doors were opened
To let the husband in the darkness and in cold =
He left the family be orphan.
Before the dinner-time he gone,
A neighbour came, he came to mourn,
And mourned man's kids, his wife as well -
A way more faithful and sincere, I should tell.
He was a simple, good landlord,
And where his ashes now are laying
The tombstone there is saying:
`Dimitry Larin, slave of Lord,
A humble sinner and a brigadier,
He rests in peace beneath right here.'
XXXVI
I tak oni stareli oba.
I otvorilis' nakonec
Pered suprugom dveri groba,
I novyj on priyal venec.
On umer v chas pered obedom,
Oplakannyj svoim sosedom,
Det'mi i vernoyu zhenoj
CHistoserdechnej, chem inoj.
On byl prostoj i dobryj barin,
I tam, gde prah ego lezhit,
Nadgrobnyj pamyatnik glasit:
Smirennyj greshnik, Dmitrij Larin,
Gospodnij rab i brigadir,
Pod kamnem sim vkushaet mir.
XXXVII
When back to home Penates he came,
Vladimir visited the tombstone
That beared neighbour's humble name,
Sighed over ashes laid alone.
For many hours Lensky's heart remained sad
`Oh, Poor Yorick!- solemnly he said,-
He used to hold me in his arms,
As kid I played more times than ones
With medal for Ochakovo he'd got.
He wanted Olga marry me,
He wondered if he was that day to see...'
And moved with gloom he never sought
Vladimir quickly after that inscribed
A tombstone madrigal of epitaphic type.
XXXVII
Svoim penatam vozvrashchennyj,
Vladimir Lenskij posetil
Soseda pamyatnik smirennyj,
I vzdoh on peplu posvyatil;
I dolgo serdcu grustno bylo.
"Poor Yorick!1- molvil on unylo,-
On na rukah menya derzhal.
Kak chasto v detstve ya igral
Ego Ochakovskoj medal'yu!
On Ol'gu prochil za menya,
On govoril: dozhdus' li dnya?.."
I, polnyj iskrennej pechalyo,
Vladimir tut zhe nachertal
Emu nadgrobnyj madrigal.
XXXVIII
And there as well, in tears, with a sad inscription
He honored ashes of beloved kin:
His father's memory, his mother's in addition...
Alas! How much it's sad and grim,
As momentary harvest on the furrows of the life,
A generation cometh, growth t'meet sciecle's knife,
It follows the divine intent unknown,
And then it's followed by another to be grown...
And so behaves the flippant tribe of us -
It grows, it moves, and boils, even dares
To push to grave its own forbears.
But soon enough the time will come, alas,
Grandchildren our will one lucky day
Push us all off world, push us away!
XXXVIII
I tam zhe nadpis'yu pechal'noj
Otca i materi, v slezah,
Pochtil on prah patriarhal'nyj...
Uvy! na zhiznennyh brazdah
Mgnovennoj zhatvoj pokolen'ya,
Po tajnoj vole providen'ya,
Voshodyat, zreyut i padut;
Drugie im vosled idut...
Tak nashe vetrenoe plemya
Rastet, volnuetsya, kipit
I k grobu pradedov tesnit.
Pridet, pridet i nashe vremya,
I nashi vnuki v dobryj chas
Iz mira vytesnyat i nas!
XXXIX
Enjoy this fragile life, my dear friends,
Enjoy it now while you are allowed!
I realize how far its insignificance extends,
I'm not attached to it - I state it out-loud!
I closed my eyes to phantams and illusion,
But vaguest hopes sometimes do bring confusion
In my old heart that beats in chest:
Without trace I'd be upset to rest
In peace, when I'm most fair Judge await.
I live and write not for a praise;
But seems to me, I should seek ways
To have some fame in my most humble fate,
To have at least a sound to remind
About Pushkin to the mankind
XXXIX
Pokamest upivajtes' eyu,
Sej legkoj zhizniyu, druz'ya!
Ee nichtozhnost' razumeyu
I malo k nej privyazan ya;
Dlya prizrakov zakryl ya vezhdy;
No otdalennye nadezhdy
Trevozhat serdce inogda:
Bez neprimetnogo sleda
Mne bylo b grustno mir ostavit'.
ZHivu, pishu ne dlya pohval;
No ya by, kazhetsya, zhelal
Pechal'nyj zhrebij svoj proslavit',
CHtob obo mne, kak vernyj drug,
Napomnil hot' edinyj zvuk.
XL
Maybe one day it will be touching someone's heart;
And stanza I had written,
Preserved by fate, would not depart
To Hades, sink in Lethe or be smitten.
Or (that's a hope too flattering to me)
An ignoramus-then-to-be
Would point at my then renowned picture
And say without mock or stricture
`That was a poet, man, I'm tellin'. '
Accept my thanks, disciple of the muses,
The one whose memory then chooses
T'preserve my fleeting verse, maybe its spelling,
Whose gracious hand would pet
The laurels on the oldman's head!
XL
I ch'e-nibud' on serdce tronet;
I, sohranennaya sud'boj,
Byt' mozhet, v Lete ne potonet
Strofa, slagaemaya mnoj;
Byt' mozhet (lestnaya nadezhda!),
Ukazhet budushchij nevezhda
Na moj proslavlennyj portret
I molvit: to-to byl poet!
Primi zh moi blagodaren'ya,
Poklonnik mirnyh Aonid,
O ty, ch'ya pamyat' sohranit
Moi letuchie tvoren'ya,
CH'ya blagosklonnaya ruka
Potreplet lavry starika!
|
I "Kuda? Uzh eti mne poety!" -- Proshchaj, Onegin, mne pora. "YA ne derzhu tebya; no gde ty Svoi provodish' vechera?" -- U Larinyh.- "Vot eto chudno. Pomiluj! i tebe ne trudno Tam kazhdyj vecher ubivat'?" -- Ni malo.- "Ne mogu ponyat'. Otsele vizhu, chto takoe: Vo-pervyh (slushaj, prav li ya?), Prostaya, russkaya sem'ya, K gostyam userdie bol'shoe, Varen'e, vechnyj razgovor Pro dozhd', pro len, pro skotnyj dvor..." |
I Where are you going? Oh, these poets' follies! - Goodbye, Onegin, time for me to go. "I don't delay you, but where do you always Go every evening, who attracts you so?" -I go to th'Larins -- "Oh, now that is the news! For goodness sake, how came you are seduced To kil |