(Vzglianite: svezhest’u mladoi)

Oh, look at her, so young, so fair—

Autumn agreed from rot to save her!

The pinioned god (scythe and gray hair),

Has spared the rosy cheeks youth gave her;

V anquished, he can but stand and stare—

Stare on, stand still, do us a favor!

Not later than 1818 (1819).

To Alína

(Tebia ia nekogda liubil)

I doted on you long ago:

A child in love, not a pursuer;

You heard me and did not say “no,”

But you were smaller than your wooer!

You loved me too. My innocence

Had not yet been suppressed by reason;

I swore to you, Alína, “Hence

Expect no guile from me, no treason.”

Can it be you? What do I see?

Your voice has changed but sounds more sweetly,

Your eyes and your response are free,

Your smile and gestures charm completely.

Two winsome flowers joined on your breast,

Each like a blooming, dazzling lilly;

Alína, I resume my quest,

Infatuated willy-nilly.

Twelve years have passed. I’m with you now,

My heart still kindling my ambition,

And I repeat my childish vow,

But you— no sign of recognition?

My pretty darling! Come what may,

My vow to you will not be broken.

I love, I love, but sadly say,

“Love fails to send me back its token!”

Not later than 1819 (1819)

To Krenitsyn

(Tovarishch radostei mladykh)

Good friend, companion of my joys,

Of short-lived merriment, and youthful imperfections!

We’ve met again at last! We are no longer boys,

But your embrace revived my dream-like recollections!

Those happy dreams! Do you recall—

The future tempted us in years when we were younger …

That appetite for life, that blissful childish hunger!

Experience cooled and killed it all.

But am I recognized? Bereavement and diseases—

Sorrows more than old age— have made your friend their prey;

Some weaknesses you knew have long since passed away,

Some dream that tempted him now hardly ever teases!

His views and reasoning mature,

A modest man, a quiet brooder,