Alexander Pushkin

Worse Than an Idyl

Worse than an idyl and colder than an ode, A misanthrope – by Hell, by Silliness – a bard – In what a terrible and quite mischievous mode Has Nature raised her ugly ward! You are afraid of men, as of some deathly illness, Oh, miserable sample of the appalling dream! Be joyuos, evil fool! You will be ne’er sun-beamed By love or friendship through existence. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver

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