Thus people — so it seems to me — Become good friends from sheer ennui. - Alexander Pushkin

Eu te-am iubit şi poate că iubirea
În suflet încă nu s-a stins de tot;
Dar nici nelinişte şi nici tristeţe
Ea nu îţi va mai da, aşa socot.
Fără cuvinte te-am iubit, fără nădejde,
De gelozie, de sfială chinuit.
Dea Domnul să mai fii cîndva iubită
Aşa adînc, aşa gingaş cum te-am iubit.

Привычка свыше нам дана:
Замена счастию она.

And once more given to inaction,
Empty in spirit and alone,
He settled down – to the distraction
Of making other minds his own;
Collecting books, he stacked a shelfful,
Read, read, not even one was helpful:
Here, there was dullness, there pretence;
This one lacked conscience, that one sense;
All were by different shackles fettered;
And, past times having lost their hold,
The new still raved about the old.
Like women, books he now deserted,
And mourning taffeta he drew
Across the bookshelf’s dusty crew.