Rex’s Reviews > Eugene Onegin > Status Update

"But pity him who's all-foreseeing—
His is a head that never spins;
To him all words and acts are sins
On every level of their being:
By too much life his heart's been chilled;
His lust for life's been all but killed."

"Each has his own preoccupation,
Each has his favorite avocation:
One tilts arms at loons in the sky,
One finds charms in rhymes (that one's I),
One with a swatter horseflies squishes,
One gags the crowd with laws galore,
One laughs aloud while waging war,
One basks in bed with wistful wishes,
One is a connoisseur of wine:
And Good and Evil thus entwine."

"Yes, each and every friend and foe
(Between the two the line's quite hazy)
Attacked him, racked him, right and left.
We're none of us of foes bereft,
But Lord, protect us from our crazy
Cabal of friends! Yes, friends, let's cheer:
For duly you're remembered here!"

"Is this to be your lifelong plight,
By fate predestined, out of spite?"

"In all this world, what's more depressing
Than families where the suff'ring wife
is always—all alone—expressing
Despair about her married life?
And where her boring mate, despite her
Clear virtues, damns his fate?"

"Imagine, can you? I'm alone,
There's no one here who understands me,
My very reason countermands me.
And doomed to die, I'm mute as stone.
I now must wait for your decision:
Please smile and flood my heart with light!
Or else please dash my dreams tonight.
Alas, for what they're worth: derision."

"My head was filled with sundry lore
Of damsels, goblins, spooks of yore.
But memories fade—it's quite uncanny.
What once you knew, you've plum forgot.
It's sad but true—a mind will rot
As youth recedes…"

"Some future dunce with scant gray matter
will spy my portrait, point, and say,
"They don't make bards like him, today!
Accept my grateful salutations,
Admirer of the muses' strains,
O you whose mem'ry still retains
Odd remnants of my light creations,
Whose loving hand runs gently o'er
The laurels of this bard of yore."

Alas, in fripp'ry light and trifling
I've frittered much of life away.
Take balls—for moral growth, they're stifling;
If not, I'd love them still today
I love youth's frenzy and its bluster,
Its joy, its ardor, and its luster,
And ladies' fancy, frilly clothes;
I love their limbs, though I'd suppose
You'll find in Russia three or fewer
Well-tapered pairs of ladies' legs
But there's one special pair that plagues…

We've all absorbed, by candles burning,
A jot of this, a tad of that.
So thank the lord, to shine in learning
In our old land is quite old hat.

Brutal! 🤣😂🤣