Where, oh where have you gone?

Pushkin's lyrics

XXI

     By chance those verses haven't vanished;

     I keep them, and will quote them here:

     ``Whither, oh whither are ye banished,

     my golden days when spring was dear?

     What fate is my tomorrow brewing?

     the answer's past all human viewing,

     it's hidden deep in gloom and dust.

     No matter; fate's decree is just.

     Whether the arrow has my number,

     whether it goes careering past,

     all's well; the destined hour at last

     comes for awakening, comes for slumber;

     blessed are daytime's care and cark,

     blest is the advent of the dark!

     {164}

        XXII

     ``The morning star will soon be shining,

     and soon will day's bright tune be played;

     but I perhaps will be declining

     into the tomb's mysterious shade;

     the trail the youthful poet followed

     by sluggish Lethe may be swallowed,

     and I be by the world forgot;

     but, lovely maiden, wilt thou not

     on my untimely urn be weeping,

     thinking: he loved me, and in strife

     the sad beginnings of his life

     he consecrated to my keeping?...

     Friend of my heart, be at my side,

     beloved friend, thou art my bride!''



Tchaikovsky's libretto

Where, oh where have you gone,

golden days of my youth?

What does the coming day hold for me?

My gaze searches in vain;

all is shrouded in darkness!

No matter: Fate's law is just.

Should I fall, pierced by the arrow,

or should it fly wide,

‘tis all one; both sleeping and waking

have their appointed hour.

Blessed is the day of care,

blessed, too, the coming of darkness!

Early in the morning the dawn-light gleams

and the day begins to brighten,

while I, perhaps, will enter

the mysterious shadow of the grave!

And the memory of a young poet

will be engulfed by Lethe's sluggish stream.

The world will forget me; but you,

You! … Olga …

Say,

will you come, maid of beauty,

to shed a tear on the untimely urn

and think: he loved me!

To me alone he devoted

the sad dawn of his storm‑tossed life!

Oh, Olga, I loved you,

to you alone I devoted

the sad dawn of my storm‑tossed life!

Oh, Olga, I loved you!

My heart's beloved, my desired one,

come, oh come! My desired one,

come, I am your betrothed, come, come!

I wait for you, my desired one,

come, come; I am your betrothed!

Where, where, where have you gone,

golden days, golden days of my youth?