Epstein Secrets

re fiction and poetry-- English, Russian and French-- than in any other five-year period of my life. I relished especially the works of Wells, Poe, Browning, Keats, Flaubert, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Chekhov, Tolstoy, and Alexander Blok. On another level, my heroes were the Scarlet Pimpernel, Phileas Fogg, a

pious notes on the subject. This opus owes its birth to a casual remark my wife made in 1950-- in response to my disgust with rhymed paraphrases of Eugene Onegin, every line of which I had to revise for my students-- "Why don't you translate it yourself?" This is the result. It has taken some ten years of l

re fiction and poetry-- English, Russian and French-- than in any other five-year period of my life. I relished especially the works of Wells, Poe, Browning, Keats, Flaubert, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Chekhov, Tolstoy, and Alexander Blok. On another level, my heroes were the Scarlet Pimpernel, Phileas Fogg, a

pious notes on the subject. This opus owes its birth to a casual remark my wife made in 1950-- in response to my disgust with rhymed paraphrases of Eugene Onegin, every line of which I had to revise for my students-- "Why don't you translate it yourself?" This is the result. It has taken some ten years of l

re fiction and poetry-- English, Russian and French-- than in any other five-year period of my life. I relished especially the works of Wells, Poe, Browning, Keats, Flaubert, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Chekhov, Tolstoy, and Alexander Blok. On another level, my heroes were the Scarlet Pimpernel, Phileas Fogg, a

pious notes on the subject. This opus owes its birth to a casual remark my wife made in 1950-- in response to my disgust with rhymed paraphrases of Eugene Onegin, every line of which I had to revise for my students-- "Why don't you translate it yourself?" This is the result. It has taken some ten years of l

re fiction and poetry-- English, Russian and French-- than in any other five-year period of my life. I relished especially the works of Wells, Poe, Browning, Keats, Flaubert, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Chekhov, Tolstoy, and Alexander Blok. On another level, my heroes were the Scarlet Pimpernel, Phileas Fogg, a

pious notes on the subject. This opus owes its birth to a casual remark my wife made in 1950-- in response to my disgust with rhymed paraphrases of Eugene Onegin, every line of which I had to revise for my students-- "Why don't you translate it yourself?" This is the result. It has taken some ten years of l

re fiction and poetry-- English, Russian and French-- than in any other five-year period of my life. I relished especially the works of Wells, Poe, Browning, Keats, Flaubert, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Chekhov, Tolstoy, and Alexander Blok. On another level, my heroes were the Scarlet Pimpernel, Phileas Fogg, a

pious notes on the subject. This opus owes its birth to a casual remark my wife made in 1950-- in response to my disgust with rhymed paraphrases of Eugene Onegin, every line of which I had to revise for my students-- "Why don't you translate it yourself?" This is the result. It has taken some ten years of l