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“My whole life has been pledged to this meeting with you...”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“It's a lucky man, a very lucky man, who is committed to what he believes, who has stifled intellectual detachment and can relax in the luxury of his emotions - like a tipsy traveller resting for the night at wayside inn.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“He filled a shelf with a small army of books and read and read; but none of it made sense. .. They were all subject to various cramping limitations: those of the past were outdated, and those of the present were obsessed with the past.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“..depression still kept guard on him, and chased after him like a shadow - or like a faithful wife.”
― Alexander Pushkin , Eugene Onegin

“But whom to love?
To trust and treasure?
Who won’t betray us in the end?
And who’ll be kind enough to measure
Our words and deeds as we intend?”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“People are so like their first mother Eve: what they are given doesn't take their fancy. The serpent is forever enticing them to come to him, to the tree of mystery. They must have the forbidden fruit, or paradise will not be paradise for them.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Thus people--so it seems to me--
Become good friends from sheer ennui.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“But even friendship like our heroes'
Exist no more; for we've outgrown
All sentiments and deem men zeroes--
Except of course ourselves alone.
We all take on Napoleon's features,
And millions of our fellow creatures
Are nothing more to us than tools...
Since feelings are for freaks and fools.
Eugene, of course, had keen perceptions
And on the whole despised mankind,
Yet wasn't, like so many, blind;
And since each rule permits exceptions,
He did respect a noble few,
And, cold himself, gave warmth its due.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“The less we love her when we woo her,
The more we draw a woman in,”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“But flaming youth in all it's madness
Keeps nothing of its heart concealed:
It's loves and hates, its joys and sadness,
Are babbled out and soon revealed.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“It's a lucky man who leaves early from life's banquet, before he's drained to the dregs his goblet - full of wine; yes, it's a lucky man who has not read life's novel to the end, but has been wise enough to part with it abruptly - like me with my Onegin.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Онегин, я тогда моложе,
Я лучше, кажется, была,
И я любила вас; и что же?
Что в сердце вашем я нашла?
Какой ответ? одну суровость.
Не правда ль? Вам была не новость
Смиренной девочки любовь?
И нынче �� боже �� стынет кровь,
Как только вспомню взгляд холодный
И эту проповедь�� Но вас
Я не виню: в тот страшный час
Вы поступили благородно.
Вы были правы предо мной:
Я благодарна всей душой��”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Чем меньше женщину мы любим,
Тем легче нравимся мы ей,
И тем ее вернее губим
Средь обольстительных сетей.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“We still, alas, cannot forestall it-
This dreadful ailment's heavy toll;
The spleen is what the English call it,
We call it simply, Russian soul.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“We’ve got to have forbidden fruit, Or Eden’s joys for us are moot.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“I love a friendly chat and a friendly glass of wine during the evening - the time they call, for some accountable reason, 'between dog and wolf'.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Я к вам пишу �� чего же боле?
Что я могу еще сказать?
Теперь, я знаю, в вашей воле
Меня презреньем наказать.
Но вы, к моей несчастной доле
Хоть каплю жалости храня,
Вы не оставите меня.
Сначала я молчать хотела;
Поверьте: моего стыда
Вы не узнали б никогда,
Когда б надежду я имела
Хоть редко, хоть в неделю раз
В деревне нашей видеть вас,
Чтоб только слышать ваши речи,
Вам слово молвить, и потом
Все думать, думать об одном
И день и ночь до новой встречи.
Но говорят, вы нелюдим;
В глуши, в деревне всё вам скучно,
А мы�� ничем мы не блестим,
Хоть вам и рады простодушно.

Зачем вы посетили нас?
В глуши забытого селенья
Я никогда не знала б вас,
Не знала б горького мученья.
Души неопытной волненья
Смирив со временем (как знать?),
По сердцу я нашла бы друга,
Была бы верная супруга
И добродетельная мать.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Thus heaven's gift to us is this:
That habit takes the place of bliss.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Любви все возрасты покорны;
Но юным, девственным сердцам
Ее порывы благотворны,
Как бури вешние полям”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“You wrote to me. Do not deny it. I’ve read your words and they evoke My deep respect for your emotion, Your trusting soul�� and sweet devotion. Your candour has a great appeal And stirs in me, I won’t conceal, Long dormant feelings, scarce remembered. But I’ve no wish to praise you now; Let me repay you with a vow As artless as the one you tendered; Hear my confession too, I plead, And judge me both by word and deed. 13 ’Had I in any way desired To bind with family ties my life; Or had a happy fate required That I turn father, take a wife; Had pictures of domestication For but one moment held temptation- Then, surely, none but you alone Would be the bride I’d make my own. I’ll say without wrought-up insistence That, finding my ideal in you, I would have asked you—yes, it’s true�� To share my baneful, sad existence, In pledge of beauty and of good, And been as happy �� as I could! 14 ’But I’m not made for exaltation: My soul’s a stranger to its call; Your virtues are a vain temptation, For I’m not worthy of them all. Believe me (conscience be your token): In wedlock we would both be broken. However much I loved you, dear, Once used to you �� I’d cease, I fear; You’d start to weep, but all your crying Would fail to touch my heart at all, Your tears in fact would only gall. So judge yourself what we’d be buying, What roses Hymen means to send�� Quite possibly for years on end! 15 ’In all this world what’s more perverted Than homes in which the wretched wife Bemoans her worthless mate, deserted�� Alone both day and night through life; Or where the husband, knowing truly Her worth (yet cursing fate unduly) Is always angry, sullen, mute�� A coldly jealous, selfish brute! Well, thus am I. And was it merely For this your ardent spirit pined When you, with so much strength of mind, Unsealed your heart to me so clearly? Can Fate indeed be so unkind? Is this the lot you’ve been assigned? 16 ’For dreams and youth there’s no returning; I cannot resurrect my soul. I love you with a tender yearning, But mine must be a brother’s role. So hear me through without vexation: Young maidens find quick consolation�� From dream to dream a passage brief; Just so a sapling sheds its leaf To bud anew each vernal season. Thus heaven wills the world to turn. You’ll fall in love again; but learn �� To exercise restraint and reason, For few will understand you so, And innocence can lead to woe.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“.. and these days I've come to prefer the more steady Bordeaux. I am no longer up to champagne from Ay: it's like a mistress: sparkling, flighty, vivacious, wayward - and not to be trusted. But Bordeaux is like a friend who in time of trouble and misfortune stands by us always, anywhere, ready to give us help, or just to share our quiet leisure. So raise your glasses - to our friend Bordeaux!”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Мечты, мечты! где ваша сладость?”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Как грустно мне твое явленье,
Весна, весна! пора любви!
Какое томное волненье
В моей душе, в моей крови!
С каким тяжелым умиленьем
Я наслаждаюсь дуновеньем
В лицо мне веющей весны
На лоне сельской тишины!”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Tatyana’s Letter to Onegin I’m writing you this declaration�� What more can I in candour say? It may be now your inclination To scorn me and to turn away; But if my hapless situation Evokes some pity for my woe, You won’t abandon me, I know. I first tried silence and evasion; Believe me, you‘d have never learned My secret shame, had I discerned The slightest hope that on occasion�� But once a week—I’d see your face, Behold you at our country place, Might hear you speak a friendly greeting, Could say a word to you; and then, Could dream both day and night again Of but one thing, till our next meeting. They say you like to be alone And find the country unappealing; We lack, I know, a worldly tone, But still, we welcome you with feeling. Why did you ever come to call? In this forgotten country dwelling I’d not have known you then at all, Nor known this bitter heartache’s swelling. Perhaps, when time had helped in quelling The girlish hopes on which I fed, I might have found (who knows?) another And been a faithful wife and mother, Contented with the life I led. Another! No! In all creation There’s no one else whom I’d adore; The heavens chose my destination And made me thine for evermore! My life till now has been a token In pledge of meeting you, my friend; And in your coming, God has spoken, You‘ll be my guardian till the end��. You filled my dreams and sweetest trances; As yet unseen, and yet so dear, You stirred me with your wondrous glances, Your voice within my soul rang clear��. And then the dream came true for me! When you came in, I seemed to waken, I turned to flame, I felt all shaken, And in my heart I cried: It’s he! And was it you I heard replying Amid the stillness of the night, Or when I helped the poor and dying, Or turned to heaven, softly crying, And said a prayer to soothe my plight? And even now, my dearest vision, Did I not see your apparition Flit softly through this lucent night? Was it not you who seemed to hover Above my bed, a gentle lover, To whisper hope and sweet delight? Are you my angel of salvation Or hell’s own demon of temptation? Be kind and send my doubts away; For this may all be mere illusion, The things a simple girl would say, While Fate intends no grand conclusion��. So be it then! Henceforth I place My faith in you and your affection; I plead with tears upon my face And beg you for your kind protection. You cannot know: I’m so alone, There’s no one here to whom I’ve spoken, My mind and will are almost broken, And I must die without a moan. I wait for you �� and your decision: Revive my hopes with but a sign, Or halt this heavy dream of mine�� Alas, with well-deserved derision! I close. I dare not now reread��. I shrink with shame and fear. But surely, Your honour’s all the pledge I need, And I submit to it securely.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“X

Блажен, кто смолоду был молод,
Блажен, кто вовремя созрел,
Кто постепенно жизни холод
С летами вытерпеть умел;
Кто странным снам не предавался,
Кто черни светской не чуждался,
Кто в двадцать лет был франт иль хват,
А в тридцать выгодно женат;
Кто в пятьдесят освободился
От частных и других долгов,
Кто славы, денег и чинов
Спокойно в очередь добился,
О ком твердили целый век:
N. N. прекрасный человек.

XI

Но грустно думать, что напрасно
Была нам молодость дана,
Что изменяли ей всечасно,
Что обманула нас она;
Что наши лучшие желанья,
Что наши свежие мечтанья
Истлели быстрой чередой,
Как листья осенью гнилой.
Несносно видеть пред собою
Одних обедов длинный ряд,
Глядеть на жизнь, как на обряд,
И вслед за чинною толпою
Идти, не разделяя с ней
Ни общих мнений, ни страстей.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Не мысля гордый свет забавить,
Вниманье дружбы возлюбя,
Хотел бы я тебе представить
Залог достойнее тебя,
Достойнее души прекрасной,
Святой исполненной мечты,
Поэзии живой и ясной,
Высоких дум и простоты;
Но так и быть �� рукой пристрастной
Прими собранье пестрых глав,
Полусмешных, полупечальных,
Простонародных, идеальных,
Небрежный плод моих забав,
Бессонниц, легких вдохновений,
Незрелых и увядших лет,
Ума холодных наблюдений
И сердца горестных замет.
”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“Habit is heaven's gift to us:
a substitute for happiness.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“I was born for the peaceful life,
for rural quiet:
the lyre's voice in the wild is more resounding,
creative dreams are more alive.
To harmless leisures consecrated,
I wander by a wasteful lake
and far niente is my rule.
By every morn I am awakened
unto sweet mollitude and freedom;
little I read, a lot I sleep,
fugitive fame do not pursue.
Was it not thus in former years,
that I spent in inaction, in the shade,
my happiest days?”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

“To love all ages yield surrender;
But to the young it's raptures bring
A blessing bountiful and tender-
As storms refresh the fields of spring.”
― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin