Pushkin's Eugene Onegin. Book IV. Stanzas 11 -14.

PUSHKIN'S POEMS

This is the web site of Pushkin's poems

EUGENE ONEGIN

(In this edition he is called Yevgeny Onegin).

For ease of access the text is printed in image format, to avoid the problems of decoding Russian script. This unfortunately results in some loss of clarity. Three or four stanzas are printed on each page, with the English translation alongside.

BOOK IV Stanzas 11 - 14.

XI

But, having received Tatyana's letter
Onegin was touched to his heart's core:
The language of innocent, girlish dreams
Stirred up a swarm of thoughts within him,
And he remembered Tatyana's charms,
Her pale colour and look of melancholy,
And in delightful, harmless folly
He plunged head first and filled his soul.
Perhaps, the ageing flames of passion
Took hold of him, after a fashion;
Even so he had no wish to mislead
The trusting heart of an innocent girl.
So we to the garden must wing our flight
Where Tatyana is already within sight.

XII

For two minutes they both were silent,
Then Onegin walked up to her and said
«You wrote to me, do not deny it.
Your letter I have. In it I read
The confession of a heart all trusting,
And innocent love's sincere outpouring;
Your openness is to me most dear.
It brought to life, to agitation,
My feelings, long since mute and sere.
Yet I do not wish to make compliments;
Your sincerity I will repay
With just such an artless declaration ;
Receive my confession, frank and true:
I place myself in judgement before you..

XIII

If ever my life by the domestic round
I wish to limit, or circumscribe,
If ever to be a husband, father,
My happy fortune should command;
Or if ever the picture of family
Should hold me for but one moment's space,
- Then, truly, except for you alone
I would seek no other for a wife.
I will speak without embellishment:
If ever I found my heart's ideal
Then surely on you my choice would fall
As companion of all my mournful days,
A token of all that's beautiful,
And would have been happy… were it possible.

XIV

But I was not born for happiness;
It is foreign to this tortured mind;
Your perfections are so much nothingness
To me, I am of the unworthy kind.
Believe me (my conscience is here guarantor),
As spouses we would suffer agony,
For, however much I adored you first,
Custom would cool me instantly.
Then you would weep, but all your tears
Would leave unmoved my stony heart
And only serve to enrage it more.
Judge then, what roses, what a part
Hymen prepares for us to play,
Perhaps, for day after tedious day .

Lermontov

Other Pushkin

Eugene Onegin Book I

Book II

Book III

Book IV

Book V

BookVI

BookVII

BookVIII

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		XI But, having received Tatyana's letter Onegin was touched to his heart's core: The language of innocent, girlish dreams Stirred up a swarm of thoughts within him, And he remembered Tatyana's charms, Her pale colour and look of melancholy, And in delightful, harmless folly He plunged head first and filled his soul. Perhaps, the ageing flames of passion Took hold of him, after a fashion; Even so he had no wish to mislead The trusting heart of an innocent girl. So we to the garden must wing our flight Where Tatyana is already within sight.
		XII For two minutes they both were silent, Then Onegin walked up to her and said «You wrote to me, do not deny it. Your letter I have. In it I read The confession of a heart all trusting, And innocent love's sincere outpouring; Your openness is to me most dear. It brought to life, to agitation, My feelings, long since mute and sere. Yet I do not wish to make compliments; Your sincerity I will repay With just such an artless declaration ; Receive my confession, frank and true: I place myself in judgement before you..
		XIII If ever my life by the domestic round I wish to limit, or circumscribe, If ever to be a husband, father, My happy fortune should command; Or if ever the picture of family Should hold me for but one moment's space, - Then, truly, except for you alone I would seek no other for a wife. I will speak without embellishment: If ever I found my heart's ideal Then surely on you my choice would fall As companion of all my mournful days, A token of all that's beautiful, And would have been happy… were it possible.
		XIV But I was not born for happiness; It is foreign to this tortured mind; Your perfections are so much nothingness To me, I am of the unworthy kind. Believe me (my conscience is here guarantor), As spouses we would suffer agony, For, however much I adored you first, Custom would cool me instantly. Then you would weep, but all your tears Would leave unmoved my stony heart And only serve to enrage it more. Judge then, what roses, what a part Hymen prepares for us to play, Perhaps, for day after tedious day .