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A novel in verse is not so novel.
The idea goes back as far at least
As old Homer, or the fossil
Of that ancient Gilgamesh.
Yet Pushkin’s book is innovative;
His approach is highly creative.
His native Russian never knew,
Verse so natural and so true.
It reads as easily as prose,
And pops and burns like firecrackers,
Flies along like fleeing blackbirds,
And hits its target on the nose.
If only he hadn’t had that duel,
We might have yet another jewel!

The protagonist is rather shallow,
The female lead is rather pale;
The poet Lensky is wholly callow,
The plot is thin and somewhat frail.
No matter, the book is full of style,
Sharp insights abound and while
It may not be the most profound,
Its common sense is always sound.
Though his country now is infamous
We cannot fairly blame the author.
That would be like damning Chaucer
For the sins of Queen Elizabeth.
I hope it is not controversial
To proclaim Pushkin universal.