«Oh when will we go back to Russia? Oh, Hamlet of east, tell me when. / In fog and on foot we will travel, a blistering cold there’ll be then, / It won’t be triumphal, with horses, on foot we will go – no acclaim, / But you may be sure, I can promise, we’ll get to the end, all the same....»
«The gleam of silver at noon / Has not yet scattered the mist, / Shot through with wounds of the sun / The mist is still yellower at noon, / Still yellower, still more deathly. / But noon is burning so sternly / That now I can barely endure / The snatches of lilac and scarlet / Of bal...»
«Balloons, come and buy my balloons! / Balloons from the kids! / Money from the dads! / Young gents, come and buy my balloons! / Foxy coat, let’s see your spare cash, / Don’t cling on to the trash: / I’ll let them fly up to the sky, / In two hours, look out, look up high! / Itâ€...»
«Thank God, here is the shade again! / Why it is I do not know, / But since the morning I have felt / This dying hanging over me / All the livelong twilit day! / Serving out its bitter time / Between decrepit yellow walls, / Shrivelled, shuddering on its string, / A gloomy red balloon...»