But dare not bother with my lyre
Just like the moon upon her throne,
Mid wives and maidens shines alone.
With what celestial pride she grazes
The earth she walks, in splendour dressed!
What languor fills her lovely breast!
How sensuous her wondrous gazes! . . .
But there, enough; have done at last:
You've paid your due to follies past.
53
Commotion, bows . . . the glad, the solemn . . .
Galop, mazurka, waltz. . . . And there,
Between two aunts, beside a column,
Observed by none, and near despair,
Tatyana looks with eyes unseeing
And loathes this world with all her being;
She's stifled here . . . and in her mind
Calls up the life she left behind
The countryside, poor village neighbours,
A distant and secluded nook
Beside a limpid flowing brook,
Her flowers, novels, daily labours ...
That dusky, linden-shaded walk
Where
54
And so, far off in thought she wandered:
The
But all the while, as Tanya pondered,
Some general stared her way a lot.
The aunts exchanged a wink and nodded,
And with an elbow each one prodded
Tatyana, whisp'ring in her ear:
'Look quickly to your left, my dear.'
'My left? But why? It seems like gawking.'
'Just never mind . . . now look up there . . .
That group in front; you see that pair . . .
In uniform? The one not talking . ..
He just moved off. . . . He's turning round.'
'That heavy general?' Tanya frowned.
55
But here let's honour with affection
My Tanya's conquest taking wing,
And steer for now a new direction,
Lest I forget of whom I sing
On which, herewith, these observations:
