Евгений Онегин / Eugene Onegin

As in a thicket’s humble shade,
Beneath her parents’ eyes the maid
Grew like a lily pure and white,
Unseen in thick and tangled grass
By bee and butterfly which pass.

XXII

‘Twas she who first within his breast
Poetic transport did infuse,
And thoughts of Olga first impressed
A mournful temper on his Muse.
Farewell! thou golden days of love!
‘Twas then he loved the tangled grove
And solitude and calm delight,
The moon, the stars, and shining night —
The moon, the lamp of heaven above,
To whom we used to consecrate
A promenade in twilight late
With tears which secret sufferers love —
But now in her effulgence pale
A substitute for lamps we hail!

XXIII

Obedient she had ever been
And modest, cheerful as the morn,
As a poetic life serene,
Sweet as the kiss of lovers sworn.
Her eyes were of cerulean blue,
Her locks were of a golden hue,
Her movements, voice and figure slight,
All about Olga – to a light
Romance of love I pray refer,
You’ll find her portrait there, I vouch;
I formerly admired her much
But finally grew bored by her.
But with her elder sister I
Must now my stanzas occupy.

XXIV

Tattiana was her appellation.
We are the first who such a name
In pages of a love narration
With such a perversity proclaim.
But wherefore not? – ‘Tis pleasant, nice,
Euphonious, though I know a spice
It carries of antiquity
And of the attic. Honestly,
We must admit but little taste
Doth in us or our names appear
(I speak not of our poems here),
And education runs to waste,
Endowing us from out her store
With affectation, – nothing more.

XXV

And so Tattiana was her name,
Nor by her sister’s brilliancy
Nor by her beauty she became
The cynosure of every eye.
Shy, silent did the maid appear
As in the timid forest deer,
Even beneath her parents’ roof
Stood as estranged from all aloof,
Nearest and dearest knew not how
To fawn upon and love express;
A child devoid of childishness
To romp and play she ne’er would go:
Oft staring through the window pane
Would she in silence long remain.

XXVI

Contemplativeness, her delight,
E’en from her cradle’s earliest dream,
Adorned with many a vision bright
Of rural life the sluggish stream;
Ne’er touched her fingers indolent
The needle nor, o’er framework bent,
Would she the canvas tight enrich
With gay design and silken stitch.
Desire to rule ye may observe
When the obedient doll in sport
An infant maiden doth exhort
Polite demeanour to preserve,
Gravely repeating to another
Recent instructions of its mother.

XXVII

But Tania ne’er displayed a passion
For dolls, e’en from her earliest years,
And gossip of the town and fashion
She ne’er repeated unto hers.
Strange unto her each childish game,
But when the winter season came
And dark and drear the evenings were,