“And someone’s heart will feel a quiver,

for maybe fortune will have saved

from drowning’s death in Lethe river

this stanza over which I slaved;

perhaps – for flattering hope will linger – 

some future dunce will point a finger

at my famed portrait and will say:

he was a poet in his day.

I thank him without reservation,

the peaceful Muses’ devotee,

whose memory will preserve for me

the fleeting works of my creation,

whose kindly hand will ruffle down

the laurel in the old man’s crown!”

(from ‘Eugene Onegin’)

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