Eugene Onegin

Ascribe to fevers of young years
Their young delirium and stress.

I prize my hours, my days:
But I’m in idle boredom wasting
By fate all counted my days.

As well as trees can change the leaves
In early spring of every year.
You see, by skies its predestined:
You’ll fall in love once more and find…
You learn to rule yourself: I fear
Not any man can grasp such things;
Ignorance many troubles brings.