Eugene Onegin Part 4

29.

In days of revelries and pa.s.sions I'd go insane about a ball: For billets doux and declarations There's no securer place at all, Respected husbands! May I offer My service to you lest you suffer; I beg you, note my every word, I want you always on your guard.

And you, mammas, pay more attention, Observe your daughters' etiquette And keep a hold on your lorgnette!

Or else... you'll need G.o.d's intervention!

I'm only writing this to show That I stopped sinning long ago.

30.

Alas, much life I have neglected For every pastime thinkable, Yet were my morals not affected, I to this day would love a ball.

I love the youthfulness and madness, The crush, the glitter and the gladness, The care with which the women dress; I love their little feet, yet guess You'd be unlikely to discover Three shapely pairs of women's feet In all of Russia. Long indeed Have two small feet caused me to suffer...

Sad, cold, I still recall their smart, And in my sleep they stir my heart.

31.

To what far desert will you wander, Madman, to overcome their sting?

Ah, little, little feet! I wonder Where now you crush the flowers of spring?

Born to the softness of the orient, On our sad snows you left no imprint: You loved the sumptuous feel instead Of rugs that yielded to your tread, You lived in luxury, refinement.

For you how long ago did I Forget renown and eulogy, My native land and my confinement?

The happiness of youth has pa.s.sed Like your light trace on meadow gra.s.s.

32.

Diana's45 breast, the cheeks of Flora,46 Are charming, friends, I do agree, But somehow what enchant me more are The small feet of Terpsich.o.r.e.

To all who gaze on them magnetic, Of priceless recompense prophetic, Their cla.s.sic gracefulness inspires A wilful swarming of desires.

I love them, dear Elvina,47 under A lengthy tablecloth or pressed On gra.s.s in spring or when they rest In winter on a cast-iron fender, Upon the parquet floors of halls, Beside the sea on granite walls.

33.

Once by the sea, a storm impending, I recollect my envy of The waves, successively descending, Collapsing at her feet with love.

Oh how I wished to join their races And catch her feet in my embraces!

No, never did I in the fire Of my ebullient youth desire To kiss with so much pain and hunger A young Armida's48 lips or seek The rose upon a flaming cheek Or touch a bosom full of languor; No, never did a pa.s.sion's squall So rend and tear apart my soul.

34.

Another memory comes, revealing A cherished dream in which I stand Holding a happy stirrup... feeling A tiny foot inside my hand.

Imagination seethes, excited, Once more its contact has ignited The blood within my withered heart, Once more I love, once more I smart!...

But why should I think it my duty To praise these proud ones with my lyre, Who don't deserve the pa.s.sions or The songs engendered by their beauty.

Their charming words and glances cheat As surely as... their little feet.

35.

But my Onegin? Home to bed he Drives sleepily through city streets, While restless Petersburg already Is wakened by the drummer' beats.

The merchant's up, the hawker's calling, And to his stand the cabman's crawling, The Okhta49 girl, her jug held tight, Crunches the snow in hurried flight.

The early-morning noise is cheering, Shutters unlock, in columns high Blue chimney smoke ascends the sky, The baker, punctual German, wearing His cotton cap, already has Opened and shut his vasisdas.50

36.

But, turning morning into nighttime, Exhausted by the ballroom's din, The child of luxury and pastime In blissful shade sleeps quietly in.

He'll wake past noon, and till next morning His selfsame life will go on turning In its unchanging, motley way, Tomorrow just like yesterday.

And yet how happy was my Eugene a A free man in the bloom of years 'midst splendid conquests and affairs, 'midst daily pleasures to indulge in?

Was it in vain that, feasting, he Displayed such health and levity?

37.

No: soon a coldness numbed his feeling; The social hubbub left him bored; The fair s.e.x ceased to be appealing, To dominate his every thought.

Betrayals no more entertained him, While friends and friends.h.i.+ps simply pained him, Since he, not always, it was plain, Could drink a bottle of champagne, To down a Strasbourg pie and beef-steaks, And scatter caustic words of wit, While thinking that his head might split; And he, a fiery rake, his leave takes Of that exhilerating life Of sabre, lead and martial strife.

38.

A malady, whose explanation Is overdue, and similar To English spleen a the Russian version, In short, is what we call khandra a51 Possessed him bit by bit; not tempted, Thank G.o.d, to shoot himself, but, emptied Of all attachment to this life, He, like Childe Harold,52 would arrive In drawing rooms, dejected, languid; Neither the worldly gossiping, Nor game of boston,53 then in swing, Immodest sighs or glances candid, Naught touched Onegin to the core He noticed nothing any more.

[39, 40, 41].

42.

Capricious ladies of society!

You were the first ones he forswore, And, in our years, bon ton,54 propriety Have, it is true, become a bore; While you may find a dame among them, Elucidating Say and Bentham,55 Their conversation, all in all, While harmless, is nonsensical; On top of that, they are so gracious, Majestic and intelligent, So full of pious sentiment, So circ.u.mspect, precise and precious, So inaccessible to men, The sight of them brings on the spleen.56

43.

And even you, young beauties, gracing The droshkies that career away, Over the city's pavements racing From late at night to break of day, You, too, he left in equal measure.

An apostate from stormy pleasure, He locked himself inside his den, Yawning, he reached out for a pen, He wished to write a but could not manage The pain of persevering toil, Nothing proceeded from his quill, Nor did he join that c.o.c.ky parish Or guild of which I'll speak no wrong, Since it's among them I belong.

44.