Alexander Blok
- The Poets, by Geoffrey Thurley
(Beyond the town a sterile quarter grew...)
Aleksandr Blok (español)
- Los poetas, Jorge Bustamante García
(En las afueras de la ciudad crece solitario un barrio...)
«I am finished, but you live on. / And the wind, crying and moaning, / rocks the house and the clearing, / not each pine alone, / but all the trees together, / with the vast distance, whole, / like the hulls of vessels, / moored in a bay, storm-blown. / And it shakes them not from mis...»
«Under the willow, wound with ivy, / we shelter from the storm. / A greatcoat covers our shoulders, / my arms, to keep you warm. / I’m wrong. The trees in this wood / are circled with hops not ivy. / Better to spread the coat / on the ground, here, beneath me. »
«Spring bursts violently / into Moscow houses. / Moths flutter about / crawl on summer hats, / and furs hide secretly. Pots of wallflowers and stock / stand, in the window, just, / of wooden second storeys, / the rooms breathe liberty, / the smell of attics is dust. The street is fr...»
«Snow is falling: snow is falling. / Geranium flowers reach / for the blizzard’s small white stars / past the window’s edge. Snow is falling, all is lost, / the whole world’s streaming past: / the flight of steps on the back stairs, / the corner where roads cross. Snow is falling:...»