XXII I have know women beautiful who were Cold as a winter’s day, as clear, as clean; But unapproachable, dames, I swear, Implacable, improbable, I ween; Incomprehensible they to me have been. Virtue, and modishness, appear inborn, Icebergs are they, whose company I scorn. I ran from them this poet now avows; It seems that I a note of hell had read: on their brows, Lasciate ogni speranza! And from these ports of hell this poet fled. These females love not, though they sometimes wed. All proferred love such ladies much abhor: Perhaps you them have seen on Neva’s XXIII Others there were among love’s worshippers. I saw some whim-swayed women in the throng; Self-loving, and indifferent each appears To sighs impassioned, flattery’s sweet song. With what astonishment I found among ladies, that their harsh, austere behaviour Beat down the love of a young timid lover. Yet they know well how it attract Attract, at least, by fain regret, Or tone of speech, simulated pain, At least it seemed a tender note to get. Within the heart it did beget A new-found courage and urbanity; He repursues his darling vanity. XXIV Just why was Tatiana more to blame? Is it because she simple was, direct? She knew no why should she then know shame? Believes she in her vision most select. Should we then her natural love not respect? She is obedient to inclination, By heaven gifted with imagination. Also she clever is, with vivid will, She has a passionate yet tender heart; She is a rebel, but I think you still Will her forgive, although she did impart Her feelings to her lover without art. It was a giddy, not a reckless passion, That she avowed in such straightforward fashion.
XXII I have know women beautiful who were Cold as a winter’s day, as clear, as clean; But unapproachable, dames, I swear, Implacable, improbable, I ween; Incomprehensible they to me have been. Virtue, and modishness, appear inborn, Icebergs are they, whose company I scorn. I ran from them this poet now avows; It seems that I a note of hell had read: Lasciate ogni speranza! on their brows, And from these ports of hell this poet fled. These females love not, though they sometimes wed. All proferred love such ladies much abhor: Perhaps you them have seen on Neva’s XXIII Others there were among love’s worshippers. I saw some whim-swayed women in the throng; Self-loving, and indifferent each appears To sighs impassioned, flattery’s sweet song. With what astonishment I found among ladies, that their harsh, austere behaviour Beat down the love of a young timid lover. Yet they know well how it attract Attract, at least, by fain regret, Or tone of speech, simulated pain, At least it seemed a tender note to get. Within the heart it did beget A new-found courage and urbanity; He repursues his darling vanity. XXIV Just why was Tatiana more to blame? Is it because she simple was, direct? She knew no why should she then know shame? Believes she in her vision most select. Should we then her natural love not respect? She is obedient to inclination, By heaven gifted with imagination. Also she clever is, with vivid will, She has a passionate yet tender heart; She is a rebel, but I think you still Will her forgive, although she did impart Her feelings to her lover without art. It was a giddy, not a reckless passion, That she avowed in such straightforward fashion.
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