«Out came the Lord to test humanity’s love, / Walked out into a field in the guise of a beggar. / An old man sitting on a stump in an oak grove / Was chewing a dry crumpet with his toothless mouth. / / The old man saw the beggar walking / Down the path with an iron cane / And thought...»
«In the land of yellow nettle / And dried-out wattle / Village huts, like orphans, / Cling to willows. / / In the fields, behind the ravine’s blue thicket, / Among green lakes, / The sand road stretches up to / The Siberian Mountains. / / Lost somewhere in Mordva and Chuda, / ...»
«I’m tired of living in my native land, / Yearning for the vast fields of buckwheat. / I’ll leave my shack / To be a vagrant and a thief. / / I’ll walk the white curls of the day / To look for some wretched lodging. / And, seeing me, my best friend / Will sharpen his boot knife...»
«Swimming in the blue dust, / The moon butts a cloud with its horn. / This night, no one will guess / Why the herons screamed. / This night, she ran through the reeds / To the green backwater. / Her white hand swept her tousled hair / Over her tunic. / She ran up, glanced at the quick...»