Eugene Onegin / Евгений Онегин. Александр ПушкинЧитать онлайн книгу.

      She loved upon the balcony

      To anticipate the break of day,

      When on the pallid eastern sky

      The starry beacons fade away,

      The horizon luminous doth grow,

      Morning's forerunners, breezes blow

      And gradually day unfolds.

      In winter, when Night longer holds

      A hemisphere beneath her sway,

      Longer the East inert reclines

      Beneath the moon which dimly shines,

      And calmly sleeps the hours away,

      At the same hour she oped her eyes

      And would by candlelight arise.

      Romances pleased her from the first,

      Her all in all did constitute;

      In love adventures she was versed,

      Rousseau and Richardson to boot.

      Not a bad fellow was her father

      Though superannuated rather;

      In books he saw nought to condemn

      But, as he never opened them,

      Viewed them with not a little scorn,

      And gave himself but little pain

      His daughter's book to ascertain

      Which 'neath her pillow lay till morn.

      His wife was also mad upon

      The works of Mr. Richardson.

      She was thus fond of Richardson

      Not that she had his works perused,

      Or that adoring Grandison

      That rascal Lovelace she abused;

      But that Princess Pauline of old,

      Her Moscow cousin, often told

      The tale of these romantic men;

      Her husband was a bridegroom then,

      And she despite herself would waste

      Sighs on another than her lord

      Whose qualities appeared to afford

      More satisfaction to her taste.

      Her Grandison was in the Guard,

      A noted fop who gambled hard.

      Like his, her dress was always nice,

      The height of fashion, fitting tight,

      But contrary to her advice

      The girl in marriage they unite.

      Then, her distraction to allay,

      The bridegroom sage without delay

      Removed her to his country seat,

      Where God alone knows whom she met.

      She struggled hard at first thus pent,

      Night separated from her spouse,

      Then became busy with the house,

      First reconciled and then content;

      Habit was given us in distress

      By Heaven in lieu of happiness.

      Habit alleviates the grief

      Inseparable from our lot;

      This great discovery relief

      And consolation soon begot.

      And then she soon 'twixt work and leisure

      Found out the secret how at pleasure

      To dominate her worthy lord,

      And harmony was soon restored.

      The workpeople she superintended,

      Mushrooms for winter salted down,

      Kept the accounts, shaved many a crown,[28]

      The bath on Saturdays attended,

      When angry beat her maids, I grieve,

      And all without her husband's leave.

      In her friends' albums, time had been,

      With blood instead of ink she scrawled,

      Baptized Prascovia Pauline,

      And in her conversation drawled.

      She wore her corset tightly bound,

      The Russian N with nasal sound

      She would pronounce à la Française;

      But soon she altered all her ways,

      Corset and album and Pauline,

      Her sentimental verses all,

      She soon forgot, began to call

      Akulka who was once Celine,

      And had with waddling in the end

      Her caps and night-dresses to mend.

      As for her spouse he loved her dearly,

      In her affairs ne'er interfered,

      Entrusted all to her sincerely,

      In dressing-gown at meals appeared.

      Existence calmly sped along,

      And oft at eventide a throng

      Of friends unceremonious would

      Assemble from the neighbourhood:

      They growl a bit – they scandalise —

      They crack a feeble joke and smile —

      Thus the time passes and meanwhile

      Olga the tea must supervise —

      'Tis time for supper, now for bed,

      And soon the friendly troop hath fled.

      They in a peaceful life preserved

      Customs by ages sanctified,

      Strictly the Carnival observed,

      Ate Russian pancakes at Shrovetide,

      Twice in the year to fast were bound,

      Of whirligigs were very fond,

      Of Christmas carols, song and dance;

      When people with long countenance

      On Trinity Sunday yawned at prayer,

      Three tears they dropt with humble mein

      Upon a bunch of lovage green;

      Kvass needful was to them as air;

      On guests their servants used to wait

      By