Читать книгу Евгений Онегин / Eugene Onegin - Александр Сергеевич Пушкин, Александр Пушкин, Pushkin Aleksandr - Страница 63

Another time I now remember!

It’s what I watch in dreams sometimes:

A happy stirrup I do handle,

A touch of leg my blood excites.

Again the fantasy is boiling,

Again this touch of leg is burning,

It stirs up blood in withered heart,

Again this anguish and this love!

Yet, that’s enough to glorify

The arrogance of haughty creatures,

They are not worthy of these speeches,

I’d better still my chatty lyre.

These enchantresses’ words and glances

Are so deceptive… like feet’s traces!