Alexander Pushkin Fullscreen Eugene Onegin (1833)

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L

But will it come, my day of freedom?

Its time! - I everyday appeal. {5}

At sea I wait for better season, The sails of ships I call, I feel,

That under gale, en waves in boat All over the sea crossroad

Should I begin my freedom flight.

It’s time to leave for life the tight

And hostile shore, I shall be rushing To come to midday desert steppe

In Africa; at any step To sigh about mirky Russia,

In which 1 loved and suffered hard, And where buried I my heart.

LI

Onegin was already ready With me some foreign lands to rate,

But fate for us was never steady: For long we had to separate.

Away had passed his old father, Onegin was attacked by rather

Aggressive lenders each offends, Each has his own wit and sense.

But Eugene all the lawsuits hated With lot contented, gave all them

Inheritage, he had by then, Not seeing loss in all, he wasted

Or may be guessed from far away That uncle his would pass away.

LII

Report for him was so sudden From steward:

“Uncle is in bed, His breath again began to harden, To see his nephew he’d be glad”.

In sadness he it all was reading, At once he hurried for the meeting,

By post-chase he headlong went, Was yawning sweetly before hand,

Prepared for the sake of money To sighs, to boredom and to fraud

(With all that I began my thought). But when he reached it in a hurry,

On table Eugene found then For funeral prepared man.

LIII

He found house full of servants; To see deceased, from any sides

His friends arrived like vile observers Who come to funerals all times.

Deceased was buried after meeting, The priests and guests were drinking, eating,

Then all they grandly went away, As if they spent a business day.

The former foe of the orders, The waster, Eugene of the lands,

Of waters, forests and of hands Is master in the country borders;

He’s very glad that former pass He changed for anything at last.

LIV

At first two days anew he drove Along secluded lone fields

In coolness of the gloomy grove With purl and babble of still streams,

On third day, looking all around, He saw nor copse, nor hill, nor ground;

He quickly sleepy was from them, And grasped all clearly by then:

In country tedium’s prevailing Without palaces or streets,

Nor ballets, cards, nor verse one meets.

Khandra pursued him, always waiting,

It looked for him through all his life Like own shade or loyal wife.

LV

But I was born for peaceful living, In village stillness gladly breathe,

In country lyre is more ringing, More vivid are creative dreams.

Devoted to childish leisure 1 hike at lake in desert nature,

And far niente is my law. {6} I wake at mornings to adore

The sweet prosperity and freedom; I read a little, sleep for long,

For flying glory don’t long.