Winter! The peasant blithely goes To labour in his sledge forgot, His pony sniffing the fresh snows Just manages a feeble trot Though deep he sinks into the drift; Forth the _kibitka_ gallops swift,(48) Its driver seated on the rim In scarlet sash and sheepskin trim; Yonder the household lad doth run, Placed in a sledge his terrier black, Himself transformed into a hack; To freeze his finger hath begun, He laughs, although it aches from cold, His mother from the door doth scold. [Note 48: The “kibitka,” properly speaking, whether on wheels or runners, is a vehicle with a hood not unlike a big cradle.] III In scenes like these it may be though, Ye feel but little interest, They are all natural and low, Are not with elegance impressed. Another bard with art divine Hath pictured in his gorgeous line The first appearance of the snows And all the joys which Winter knows. He will delight you, I am sure, When he in ardent verse portrays Secret excursions made in sleighs; But competition I abjure Either with him or thee in song, Bard of the Finnish maiden young.(49) [Note 49: The allusions in the foregoing stanza are in the first place to a poem entitled “The First Snow,” by Prince Viazemski and secondly to “Eda,” by Baratynski, a poem descriptive of life in Finland.] IV Tattiana, Russian to the core, Herself not knowing well the reason, The Russian winter did adore And the cold beauties of the season: On sunny days the glistening rime, Sledging, the snows, which at the time Of sunset glow with rosy light, The misty evenings ere Twelfth Night. These evenings as in days of old The Làrinas would celebrate, The servants used to congregate And the young ladies fortunes told, And every year distributed Journeys and warriors to wed. V Tattiana in traditions old Believed, the people’s wisdom weird, In dreams and what the moon foretold And what she from the cards inferred. Omens inspired her soul with fear, Mysteriously all objects near A hidden meaning could impart, Presentiments oppressed her heart. Lo! the prim cat upon the stove With one paw strokes her face and purrs, Tattiana certainly infers That guests approach: and when above The new moon’s crescent slim she spied, Suddenly to the left hand side, VI She trembled and grew deadly pale. Or a swift meteor, may be, Across the gloom of heaven would sail And disappear in space; then she Would haste in agitation dire To mutter her concealed desire Ere the bright messenger had set. When in her walks abroad she met A friar black approaching near,(50) Or a swift hare from mead to mead Had run across her path at speed, Wholly beside herself with fear, Anticipating woe she pined, Certain misfortune near opined.