Part 18 (1/2)

5.

Tatiana held to the convictions Of ancient lore, believed in dreams, In guessing cards and the predictions Discernible in moonlight beams.

She was disturbed by every portent, All objects held a secret content, Proclaiming something to be guessed, Presentiments constrained her breast.

The mincing tomcat, sitting, purring Upon the stove would lift a paw To wash its snout a in this she saw A certain sign that guests were nearing.

Seeing the young moon's countenance Two-horned, upon her left, at once

6.

She'd turn quite pale, begin to tremble.

Or if a falling star should fly Across the sombre sky and crumble, Then Tanya hurried to be nigh, To catch the star while still in motion And, all her senses in commotion, To whisper to it her desire.

If it should anywhere transpire In her excursions from the manor For her to meet a monk in black Or see a swift hare cross her track, All this so terrified Tatiana, That she with sad presentiment Expected some adverse event.

7.

And yet a she found a secret pleasure In very terror; surely we Are creatures that you cannot measure, We all are contradictory.

Yuletide is come with jubilation; Immersed in blissful divination, The young have nothing to regret, Their life extends before them yet, A radiant prospect, undiscovered; Through spectacles old age divines While to the gravestone it inclines And nothing past can be recovered; But does it matter? They'll believe Their hopeful prattle till they leave.

8.

With curious gaze Tatiana ponders The wax that, sinking, leaves behind A labyrinthine web of wonders, Enchanting wondrously her mind.

Up from a br.i.m.m.i.n.g dish of water Rings surface in successive order; And, when her little ring appears, A song is sung of bygone years: The peasants there have all the riches, They heap up silver with their spades; We promise those who hear us maids Glory and good! The tune is piteous, Portending losses and mischance; Maidens prefer the tomcat chants.5

9.

A frosty night; a sky transparent; A starry choir from heaven flows In so serene and quiet a current...

In low-cut frock Tatiana goes Into the s.p.a.cious courtyard, training A mirror on the moon,6 complaining That nothing in her darkened gla.s.s Shows save the trembling moon, downcast...

But hark!... a crunch of snow... the maiden Flies tiptoe to a pa.s.sing man, Her little voice more tender than The sound of reed pipe gently played on: 'What is your name?' He looks; anon He answers: it is Agafon.7

10.

Instructed by her nurse, Tatiana Arranged a seance all night through; And in the bathhouse of the manor Ordered a table laid for two.

But sudden fear a.s.sailed Tatiana...

And I a remembering Svetlana a Felt fear as well8 a but that will do...

We won't tell fortunes all night through.9 Her silken girdle she unknotted,10 Undressed and settled into bed, Lel11 hovering above her head, While underneath her pillow slotted Lies a young maiden's looking gla.s.s.

All's hushed. Sleep overtakes the la.s.s.