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# Pushkin’s poem “The Cart of Life” on the ages of man and the passage of time
- URL: https://theparnassian.com/en/telega-zhizni/
- Published: 2025-11-18T13:11:23.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-02T18:38:50.000Z
- Author: Alexandr Radayev
- Tags: Books, Observations

**The Cart of Life. So it turns out Pushkin is writing about us, lads.**

Though at times its burden is heavy,  
The cart is light as it goes;  
The reckless driver, grey-haired Time,  
Drives on, and will not climb down from the box.

In the morning we get into the cart;  
We are glad to break our necks  
And, scorning sloth and ease,  
We cry: get along! . . . .

But by noon we no longer have that daring;  
We have been shaken up; we are more afraid  
Of both the slopes and the ravines;  
We cry: go easier, you fool!

The cart rolls on as before;  
Towards evening we have grown used to it  
And, dozing, we ride to our night's lodging —  
While Time whips on the horses.

*Literal translation*