Читать книгу Евгений Онегин / Eugene Onegin - Александр Сергеевич Пушкин, Александр Пушкин, Pushkin Aleksandr - Страница 110

The country, where Eugene was boring,

Was a scenic and charming place;

The one, who’s innocence enjoying,

This nook would evidently bless.

A landlord house stood in lone

Above a river on a knoll,

Under the lee of a small hill,

In front of it a lovely scene:

The golden fields and blooming meadows,

The villages dropped here and there,

The flocking herds and country air;

An uncared park by a thick shadow

Extended far away its spreads –

A home of meek and mute Dryads.