«Literal Translation The Wind Running full tilt, skipping along, past the covered / Passageways of the marketplace, limping on the fly, / By way of the wall, the boulevard, the ripped-up newspaper, / The one not read all the way through, not all the way unfolded, / The one born yesterday—...»
«Literal Translation Silence and dreams, and a languid boredom / Have left me sweetly enervated, / I’m fond of the roosters on white dishtowels / And of ancient soot on austere icons. Day after day goes by to the hot rustle of flies, / Each day replete with the most pious humility, / A ...»
«Literal Translation The Watermelon The gale is straining its guts; our old tub / Heads out into the risky business of the Sea of Azov. / Watermelons piled on top of each other, and the hold is overloaded, / And the wharf is covered with melons. In the pre-dawn chill we don’t get our first...»
«Everything’s plundered, betrayed, in ruin’s jaws, / The black wing of death flicks and gleams; / A hungry sick anguish at bowels and guts gnaws, / And yet here we are dreaming our dreams? By daylight the woods near the outskirts of town / Breathe out an astringent and cherry-laced smell...»