Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

256
Chapter Six
XLIV

I have learned the voice of other desires, I've come to know new sadness5 I have no expectations for the first, 4 and the old sadness I regret. Dreams, dreams! Where is your dulcitude? Where is (its stock rhyme) juventude? Can it be really true 8 that withered, withered is at last its garland? Can it be true that really and indeed, without elegiac conceits, the springtime of my days is fled 12 (as I in jest kept saying hitherto), and has it truly no return? Can it be true that I'll be thirty soon?