Part 8 (1/2)

22.

By her the poet first was given His youthful dream of ecstasy, And thoughts about her would enliven His pipe's first moan of melody.

Farewell to golden games, for ever!

He took instead to groveland cover, Seclusion, stillness and the night, The stars and heaven's brightest light, The moon amid her constellation, The moon, to whom when evening nears, We dedicated walks and tears, Our secret sorrow's consolation...

But now we only see in her A subst.i.tute for lamplight's blur.

23.

Forever modest and submissive, Forever merry as the day, As charming as a lover's kisses, As artless as the poet's way, Her eyes as azure as the heaven, Her flaxen curls, her smile so even, Her voice, her slender waist and stance These made up Olga... but just glance At any novel at your leisure, You'll find her portrait there a it's sweet, Once I myself found it a treat, But now it bores me beyond measure.

Reader, I shall, if you'll allow, Turn to the elder sister now.

24.

Her elder sister was Tatiana...

This is the first time that we grace A tender novel in this manner With such a name, so out of place.

What of it? It is pleasing, resonant; I know, of course, that it is redolent Of memories of ancientness Or maids' rooms! We must all confess: That even in the names we're given There's very little taste on show (We will not mention verses now); Enlightenment we don't believe in, We've simply utilized it for Mere affectation a nothing more.

25.

And so then she was called Tatiana.

Lacking her sister's beauty, poise, Her rosy freshness, in no manner Would she attract a person's gaze.

A wayward, silent, sad young maiden, Shy as a doe, in forest hidden, She seemed inside her family A stranger, an anomaly.

She could not snuggle up to father Or mother; and herself a child, By children's games was not beguiled To skip or play, but often, rather, Would at a window silently Sit on her own throughout the day.

26.

Of contemplative disposition Beginning with her cradle days, She coloured with a dreamy vision The idle flow of rural ways.

Her slender fingers knew not needles; Embroidery seemed made of riddles; With silken patterns she was loath To animate a linen cloth.

A sign of the desire to govern, The child with her obedient doll Rehea.r.s.es for the protocol Of etiquette and worldly canon, And to her doll with gravity Imparts mamma's morality.

27.

But even in those years Tatiana Possessed no doll nor made pretence To tell it in an adult manner About town fas.h.i.+ons and events.

And childish escapades were foreign To her: in winter, tales of horror, Told in the darkness of the night, Gave to her heart much more delight.

Whenever nurse, obeying Olga, Brought all her little playmates down To play upon the s.p.a.cious lawn, She found the games of catch too vulgar, The ringing laughs and jollity Were boring to her equally.