«Ring, sing, oblivion preventing, / The words "fifteen years old" in my soul. / Why, did I grow up and become big? / Nothing consoles. Just yesterday, into green grove of birches / Free, in the morning I ran away. / Just yesterday I frolicked without hairdo, / Just yesterday! Spring rin...»
«To rock a cradle this morning in May? / Proud neck in lasso, like some? / Distaff to jailbird, to herder — a shawn, / To me — a drum. Role of a woman's not dear to me: / I fear not wounds, but boredom. / Gives to me everything — honor and might — / This my drum. So many count...»
«Clear morning is not hot, lightly / You run through the meadow. / Down the Oka pulls a barge, / Very slow. Several words without willing / You are repeating still. / Somewhere in the field is ringing / Weakly the bell. Ring in the field? On the meadow? / Are they going to the prayer...»
«To melt all, that the people forget all, / Like a candle or molten snow? / Be a handful of dust in the future / Under cross of a grave? I say no! Every moment, from anguish concussing, / I return to the same once again: / Die forever! Did for this the fortune / Give me all things to und...»