How Fair, How Fresh Were The Roses by Ivan Turgenev. Short summary

5 seconds

The author, in his old age, recalls a summer evening when he saw a beautiful girl. Then he recalls a peaceful family life, the faces of their children. But they are all dead.

1 minute

Verse in prose. It’s winter, a blizzard is raging outside the frost-covered window. A single candle burns in the room. An old man sits on the bed. He tries to recall a verse he once knew. But only the first line remains in his memory: «How beautiful, how fresh were the roses…».

In connection with this image, the old man recalls a beautiful summer evening. He, a young man, was standing in front of the house, and in the window there was a beautiful young girl. She was looking up at the sky, as if waiting for the first stars to appear. And she was as fresh and beautiful as a rose…

The old man also recalls a peaceful family life. A woman was playing the piano, and two blond heads with ruddy cheeks were talking affectionately to Daddy in their sonorous baby voices. And they were like fresh beautiful roses, too.

And now it’s winter, and the same decrepit dog lies at the feet of the old owner. They are all dead, those fresh beautiful roses…