Читать книгу Евгений Онегин / Eugene Onegin - Александр Сергеевич Пушкин, Александр Пушкин, Pushkin Aleksandr - Страница 104

Whose gaze, exiting inspiration,

By sweet caress had made a prize

For your poetic meditation?

Whom did your verses idolize? ”

No, friends, by Heaven, no one, yet!

And all my reckless love attempts

Were all in vain with no delight.

These poets blissful, who combined

Both, love and rhythms and by that doubled

The sacred poetry delire

Recalling the great Petrarch’s lyre,

And by the heartache not more troubled

Caught fame and glory by God’s will.

But I in love was dumb and still.