My greetings!
Hurra! we all have reached the land.
Indeed, for long should have the end!
XLIX
Whatever are you, dear reader, A friend or not, I’d like with you
To part Eke friend, but real, eager.
Forgive!
What for would ever view
You all my slipshod stanzas here: For recollections restless dear;
For quiet leisure after work; For lively pictures, salted word;
For my mistakes in Russian grammar, - Help God to find in all this book
Amusements or for dreams a nook, Some thoughts for heart, for journal’s clamour
A mere hit from all I’d give.
Arid thus we now part, forgive!
L
My travelling mate, I beg your pardon; My true ideal, you forgive!
You, constant vivid job, could harden My slender force, to me could give
All envied by the hard, yet living! In worldly storms - of life oblivion,
Of dear friends a pretty chat.
But many days away could get
Since young Tatyana at some hovel With Eugene, in my hazy dream,
First time appeared at the rim Of outlines of my free novel.
Through magic crystal I could not Myself discern all their lot.
LI
But they, to whom at friendly meeting My first of stanzas could I cite...
Are not, or far away are living, As Sadi said before I write.
Without them Onegm’s pictured.
And she, that young and lovely creature;
Ideal image, Tanya’s rhyme...
Ah, many were by fate denied!
He’s blessed, who feast of life was leaving In time, not drinking to the end
All wine from goblet at his hand Was not till end life’s novel reading,
But suddenly could part from it, As I from my Onegin did,
THE END