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 came over to the pine forest. / It is hot, and not short is the way. / He pushed back the door and came out / Luminous, short, hair — grey. He looked at me insolently / And muttered at once, "Christ's bride! / Do not envy success of the happy, / A place for you there does hide. Do...»
«The other cranes shout "Cour-lee" / Calling a wounded one / When autumn fields around / Are fallow and warm. And I, being sick, hear calling, / The noise of golden wings / From dense and low clouds / And underbrush very thick. "It's time to fly, it's time to fly, / Over river and fie...»
«I will quietly in the churchyard / Sleep on plywood in the sun, / On the Sunday, guest to mother / You will come, my dear one — / Through the river over the mountain / Can't catch up to grown ones / From afar, the sharp-eyed fellow, / This my cross you'll recognize. / I know, dear ...»
«With pride your spirit is darkened / For this you won't know world at all. / You say that this faith is a dream / And mirage is this capital. You say that my country is sinful, / Your country is godless, I scream. / May the guilt still lie upon us — / We can correct and redeem. Aroun...»