Eugene Oneguine [Onegin]. A Romance of Russian Life in Verse

Tattiana, Russian to the core, Herself not knowing well the reason, The Russian winter did adore And the cold beauties of the season:On sunny days the glistening rime, Sledging, the snows, which at the time Of sunset glow with rosy light, The misty evenings ere Twelfth Night.These evenings as in days of old The Larinas would celebrate, The servants used to congregate And the young ladies fortunes told, And every year distributed Journeys and warriors to wed.

V

Tattiana in traditions old Believed, the people's wisdom weird, In dreams and what the moon foretold And what she from the cards inferred.Omens inspired her soul with fear, Mysteriously all objects near A hidden meaning could impart, Presentiments oppressed her heart.Lo! the prim cat upon the stove With one paw strokes her face and purrs, Tattiana certainly infers That guests approach: and when above The new moon's crescent slim she spied, Suddenly to the left hand side,

VI

She trembled and grew deadly pale. Or a swift meteor, may be, Across the gloom of heaven would sail And disappear in space; then she Would haste in agitation dire To mutter her concealed desire Ere the bright messenger had set. When in her walks abroad she met A friar black approaching near,[53] Or a swift hare from mead to mead Had run across her path at speed, Wholly beside herself with fear, Anticipating woe she pined, Certain misfortune near opined.

VII

Wherefore? She found a secret joy In horror for itself alone, Thus Nature doth our souls alloy, Thus her perversity hath shown.Twelfth Night approaches. Merry eves![54] When thoughtless youth whom nothing grieves, Before whose inexperienced sight Life lies extended, vast and bright, To peer into the future tries. Old age through spectacles too peers, Although the destined coffin nears, Having lost all in life we prize.It matters not. Hope e'en to these With childlike lisp will lie to please.

VIII

Tattiana gazed with curious eye On melted wax in water poured; The clue unto some mystery She deemed its outline might afford.Rings from a dish of water full In order due the maidens pull; But when Tattiana's hand had ta'en A ring she heard the ancient strain:The peasants there are rich as kings, They shovel silver with a spade, He whom we sing to shall be made Happy and glorious. But this brings With sad refrain misfortune near. Girls the kashourka much prefer.[55]

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