Rex’s Reviews > Eugene Onegin > Status Update

Dear reader, friend or foe, at present
I'd like — whoever you might be —
To take my leave on terms most pleasant.
And thus farewell.

The snake e'er lures you wanton creatures
God's paradise for you is moot,
Unless it yields forbidden fruit.

How sad it is, to think youth's flower
in vain was given us; that we
Betrayed her with each passing hour
While she deceived us equally;
That all our fondest aspirations
And dreams were but hallucinations
That one by one went down the drain,
Like rotting leaves in autumn rain.

Or that a fiery spirit's rashness
Offends small souls that lack in brashness
Or sours the smug to snort, 'Hi ho'?
Or that a nitwit's mind can't grow?
Or that we take some sweet-talk's contents
On credit, as if words were deeds?
Or that to malice folly leads?
Or that puffed egos love puffed nonsense?
Or that true mediocrity's
Our sugar pill, not our disease?

She hates this grand world's tumult, frankly.
It's stifling here...and, in a dream,
She sails away to field and stream,
Back to the backwoods' humble peasants,
Back to that lonely, tranquil nook
Where, bubbling, flows her lively brook;
Back to her books, her private pleasance…

Shall I confess my petty crime?
I chase the petticoats of rhyme

"But he was touched to see her churning,
And wordlessly, he gave a bow;
Yet something in his eyes somehow
Revealed a strangely tender numen.
Now, whether he was moved in truth,
Was teasing like some flirt uncouth,
Or simply showing he was human,
In any case his gaze expressed
Some warmth, and she felt less oppressed."

"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!"