Eugene Onegin. Book I Stanzas 13

PUSHKIN'S POEMS

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Lermontov

EUGENE ONEGIN

(In this edition he is called Yevgeny Onegin).

BOOK 1 STANZAS 13-17

The Russian text is printed both in image format, and as plain Russian script. Errors in the Image version I hope have been corrected in the plain text below. Two or three stanzas are printed on each page, with the English translation alongside.

Бывало, он еще в постеле:
К нему записочки несут.
Что? Приглашенья? В самом деле,
Три дома на вечер зовут:
Там будет бал, там детский праздник.
Куда ж поскачет мой проказник?
С кого начнет он? Все равно:
Везде поспеть немудрено.
Покамест в утреннем уборе,
Надев широкий боливар,
Онегин едет на бульвар
И там гуляет на просторе,
Пока недремлющий брегет
Не прозвонит ему обед.

XV
As often happened, he was still in bed:
Three notelets are brought him on a tray. -
What is it? Invitations? You don't say.
Three homes invite him for an evening out.
A ball here, then a birthday celebration.
Where then will my young idler hasten?
With whom will he start. It is not important.
He will have the time to cover them all.
Meanwhile, dressed in his morning finery
And donning his fashionable bolivar
He takes a carriage to the boulevard
And there parades in all his glory
Until his sleepless pocket watch
Tells him it is time for his dinner and scotch.

Уж тёмно: в санки он садится.
"Пади, пади!" - раздался крик;
Морозной пылью серебрится
Его бобровый воротник.
К Talon помчался: он уверен,
Что там уж ждет его Каверин.
Вошел: и пробка в потолок,
Вина кометы брызнул ток,
Пред ним roast-beef окровавленный,
И трюфли, роскошь юных лет,
Французской кухни лучший цвет,
И Стразбурга пирог нетленный
Меж сыром Лимбургским живым
И ананасом золотым.

XVI
Already it darkens. In the sleigh he sits.
"Full speed! Full speed!" The cry is heard,
With frosty dust and rime now glistens
His beaver collar around his beard.
He speeds to Talon, for he is convinced
That there he will find his friend Kaverin.
He enters - a cork flies to the ceiling.
Some wine of comet vintage fizzes,
While roast beef all bloody on the table stands,
And truffles, a luxury of younger years,
The greatest glory of French cuisine,
And Strasbourg tart all fresh and gleaming
With Limburg cheese all runny and spiced
And golden pineapple freshly sliced.

Еще бокалов жажда просит
Залить горячий жир котлет,
Но звон брегета им доносит,
Что новый начался балет.
Театра злой законодатель,
Непостоянный обожатель
Очаровательных актрис,
Почетный гражданин кулис,
Онегин полетел к театру,
Где каждый, вольностью дыша,
Готов охлопать entrechat,
Обшикать Федру, Клеопатру,
Моину вызвать (для того,
Чтоб только слышали его).

XVII
His thirst still needs another glass
To drown the cutlet's fiery fat,
But then his watch prompts him to note
That a new ballet is due to start.
A stern critic of the stage and law giver,
An inconstant and fickle admirer
Of all the enchanting actresses,
This respected inhabitant of the coulisses,
Onegin hastens to the theatre,
Where everyone, breathing freedom's air,
Prepares to clap an entrechat,
To hiss a Phaedre, boo a Queen,
To shout for Moina, (only for one thing,
To make his own voice heard in the din).

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