Eugene Oneguine [Onegin]: A Romance of Russian Life in Verse

by Alexander Pushkin

And in addition youth is flame And cannot anything conceal, Is ever ready to proclaim The love, hate, sorrow, joy, we feel.

What I by relatives conceive? These are your relatives, believe: Those whom we ought to love, caress, With spiritual tenderness; Whom, as the custom is of men, We visit about Christmas Day, Or by a card our homage pay, That until Christmas comes again They may forget that we exist. And so—God bless them, if He list.

Cease the pursuit of shadows vain,

Just at the hour we designate The time between the wolf and dogs—

I cannot tell on what pretence— But lo! the friends to chat commence.

And marking Tania's agitation, Cast down his eyes in trepidation And sulked in silent indignation; Swearing how Lenski he would rile, Avenge himself in proper style.

'tis hard At eighteen not to play the fool!

Behold! the world's opinion!(63) Our idol, Honour's motive force, Round which revolves the universe.

Her nurse, who could have made a guess, Was famous for thick-headedness.