Eugene Onegin is the master work of the poet whom Russians regard as the fountainhead of their literature. Set in s Russia, Pushkin’s novel in verse. Chapter One, Stanza One: James Falen (). ‘My uncle, man of firm convictions By falling gravely ill, he’s won. A due respect for his. Distinguished by James E. Falen’s masterful use of contemporary American English and handling of rhyme and meter, this new translation of Alexander.
|Published (Last):||19 May 2006|
|PDF File Size:||3.49 Mb|
|ePub File Size:||16.95 Mb|
|Price:||Free* [*Free Regsitration Required]|
Volte mais tarde, por favor. The text was found here: The audio you can find here: But let it be.
Take this collection Of sundry chapters as my suit: Half humorous, half pessimistic, Blending the plain and idealistic Amusement’s yield, the careless fruit Of sleepless nights, light inspirations, Born of my green and withered years. The intellect’s cold observations, The heart’s reflections, writ in tears. Chapter 1 To live he hurries falne to feel makes haste.
By falling gravely ill, he’s won A due respect for his afflictions The only clever thing he’s done. May his example profit others; But God, what deadly boredom, brothers, To tend a sick man night and day, Not daring once to steal away!
And, oh, how base to pamper grossly And entertain the nearly dead, To fluff the pillows for his head, And pass him medicines morosely While thinking under every sigh: The devil take you, Uncle. Ludmila’s and Rusln’s adherents!
Ongin, my good friend and brother, Was born beside the Neva’s span, Where maybe, reader, you began, Or sparkled in one way or other. I too there used to saunter forth, But found onegij noxious in the north.
Eugene Onegin in English Translation: Chapter One, Stanza One: James Falen ()
Fate watched Eugene in his dependence; At first Madame was in attendance; And then Monsieur took on the child, A charming lad, though somewhat wild.
Monsieur l’Abb, a needy eugenne, To spare his charge excessive pain, Kept lessons light and rather plain; His views on morals ever mellow, He seldom punished any lark, And walked the boy in Letny Park.
And here’s Oneginliberated, To fad and eguene newly mated: A London dandy, hair all curled, At last he’s ready for the world!
In French he could and did acutely Express himself and even write; In dancing too his step was light, And bows he’d mastered absolutely.
Who’d ask for more? The world could tell That he had wit and charm as well. So thank the Lord that in this nation.