к пушкинскому юбилею

Отрывок из "Евгения Онегина", перевод на английский

That's winter! Peasant, jubilating,
Renews his way on wooden sledge.
His small horse doubts, hesitating,
And trots somehow, outraged.

Look - fluffy lines of snow flow
From dashing cab; in scarlet belt,
Which shines and sparkles with dazzling glow,
There cabman sits, in sheepskin clad.

An yard boy runs; he placed his puppy
On sledge and pushes it as a horse.
His finger's frozen, even worse:
From window threatens him his mummy.
He feels the pain, this varmint one,
But though he laughs in front of mom.


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