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.

11.

A wondrous dream she has: she's taken A path across a snow-filled glade.

Gloomy and dismal, sad, forsaken; Snowdrifts rear up before the maid, And through them runs a seething torrent, A dark, untamed and age-old current, With thundering, whirring, churning waves; Glued by the ice, two flimsy staves Are set above the rushing water a A perilous and tiny bridge That oscillates from edge to edge.

This and the roaring chasm thwart her; Perplexed, not knowing what to think, She halts there at the very brink.

12.

As at a vexing separation, Tatiana murmured at the tide, Saw neither man nor habitation To call to on the other side.

But soon a drift began to quiver And who appeared beside the river?

A burly bear with ruffled fur; Tatiana cried, he roared at her, Stretched out a paw, sharp claws protruding; She braced herself, with trembling hand She leaned on it and scarce could stand; They reached the bank, where she, concluding That she was safe, walked on ahead, Then... what was that?... a bear-like tread!

13.

The s.h.a.ggy footman is behind her, She dares not look, strains every limb In hope the creature will not find her, But there is no escaping him.

The odious bear comes grunting, lumbering; A wood's before them; pines are slumbering In frowning beauty, boughs hang low, Weighed down with heavy flocks of snow; And, seeping through the topmost summits Of aspens, birches, lindens bare, The starry rays invade the air.

The shrubs, the path and where it plummets Are covered by the blizzard's sweep And in the snowfall buried deep.

14.

Bear in pursuit, Tatiana dashes Into the wood, up to her knee In powdery snow; a long branch catches Her by the neck, then forcefully Wrenches away her golden earrings; Tatiana, wholly without bearings, Leaves in the snow a small, wet boot, Pulled from her charming little foot; She drops her handkerchief, foregoing To pick it up, the bear is nigh, Her hand is trembling, yet she's shy To raise the dress around her flowing; She runs, and he pursues her still, Then she abandons strength and will.

15.

She falls into the snow; and nimbly The bear retrieves and carries her; She yields insensibly and limply, She does not breathe, she does not stir; Along a forest path he rushes, And suddenly through trees and bushes A hut appears; all's wild around And sad snow covers roof and ground, A window sheds illumination And noise and shouting blast the ear; The bear declares: 'My gaffer's here: It's warm inside his habitation.'

And, quickly, opening the door, He lays the maiden on the floor.

16.

Tatiana, coming to, looks round her: The bear has gone: beyond the hall Shouting and tinkling gla.s.s astound her As if there's some big funeral; Making no sense of this she quietly Peers through a c.h.i.n.k... the scene's unsightly, No fancy could imagine it: Around a table monsters sit, One with a dog's face, horned, abnormal, Another with a c.o.c.kerel's head, A witch with bearded goat cross-bred, A skeleton, august and formal, A small-tailed dwarf, and what is that, Apparently half-crane, half-cat?

17.

More wondrous, more intimidating, Astride a spider sits a crab, Upon a goose's neck, rotating, A skull is perched with scarlet cap, And there a crouching windmill dances, Waving its snapping vanes like lances; Barks, laughter, whistles, song, applause, Men's talk and horses stamping floors!

What could Tatiana do but marvel To see among this company The man she loved so fearfully, The hero of our present novel!

Onegin steals a quick look for Whoever may be at the door.