XXV
Is really the secret’s found?
Or really she guessed not wrong?
The time is fast, she must be out: For her are waiting so long
Two neighbours, home have been walking And all about her are talking.
‘You see, Tatyana’s not a child,’ The old woman’s voice is mild,-
‘Of them my Olga is the younger.
To fix her fate it’s time, I see;
What shall I do, I can’t foresee; The same she says to all but sharper:
‘Do not.’
Her grief she never hides And lone in the woods she hikes."
XXVI
’But may be she’s in love?’ ‘Who knows?
Buyanov courted: was refused.
To Petushkov she never goes; Pykhtin, the hussar, toed to fuse
Quite greatly, when he made a visit, On her was fawning, you should see it!
I thought that time: will do, perhaps; But what d’you think? again collapse!’
‘Well, dear me, what is the matter?
For fair of the brides her bring,
To Moscow, they need good things.’..,
‘Ah, father my! the profit’s worsened..’.
‘For single winter it will do, At least I’ll credit money you’…
XXVII
The old woman was admired By that advice, such simple, good;
She courted… at once decided: To Moscow by winter route!
This news Tatyana quickly hears.
To judgings by the world severe
To bring her features clear, plain, Simplicity of country maid
And her attires, such belating, And her belating tune of speech!
Of city dandies, maidens rich To catch the eyes derisive, rating
Such dread! She wants to be away, In thickets of the woods to stay.
XXVIII
She’s getting up with rays of morning, At once she hurries to the fields
And with her eyes all them adoring She looks around and she speaks:
‘Forgive me, ever peaceful valleys, Hill peaks well known under heavens,
And you, well known dear wood, And charming skies of neighbourhood.
Forgive me you, my dear nature; I change my world such still and light
For noise of fuss such brilliant, bright.
And you forgive, my freedom later!
For what and where do I strive?
And what can give me fate of mine?’
XXIX
Much longer now she is hiking, But now brook and now hill
Induce to have a stop, inviting In front of their charms to kneel.
And like with friends, for long well known, With all the meadows and groves
She hurries up to have a chat.
But summer’s flying quicker yet.
The autumn golden is coming, The nature’s now trembling, pale
Like victim under charming veil.
And now North, all clouds driving,