В пустыне, где один Евгений
The desert in where Eugene one just
Мог оценить его дары,
Could estimate the gifts of him,
Господ соседственных селений
As of landlords of fees that were next
Ему не нравились пиры;
He didn’t like their banquets’ vim;
Бежал он их беседы шумной.
He ran from their discussions’ racket.
Их разговор благоразумный
Their conversation that was taken
О сенокосе, о вине,
To haying and about wine,
О псарне, о своей родне,
To kinsfolk and gun dogs in fine,
Конечно, не блистал ни чувством,
Of course that did a sense not shine,
Ни поэтическим огнем,
There was not a poetic fire,
Ни остротою, ни умом,
Neither severity, nor mind there
Ни общежития искусством;
And art of life that would be fine;
Но разговор их милых жен
But any talk of wives of them
Гораздо меньше был умен.
Was smart much less (believe me!) then.