My Goddesses! How are you? Where?
Heed my sad voice now, percieve:
Are you the same? Have other maidens
Changed you? Would ever hear
Again your so magic choirs?
Would ever see the Terpsichoir's
Flying soul, but of the russian kind?
Or my look doleful won't find
Any of face, familiar to me
On this dull scene, and vainly
I'll look through my lorgnette
On this court, dissappointed to end,
Being the indifferent spectator,
And would then silently I yawn,
While recollecting days of old?
Е. Онегин, гл. 1, XIX - пер. А. С. Пушкина
© Copyright: Людмила 31, 2012
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Свидетельство о публикации №112030501191
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