«What does my heart indeed just need / to be happy? So not a lot... / I like animals, trees, God, / A beam — at noon,darkness — at night. And on the edge of outside / I'll say: where was affliction? / I sang, and if I ever cried — / so only with tears of admiration.»
«If all silver that falls to us / At night from the moon, / And all gold that goes to us / From the sun at noon, I'd just bring to her...She'd tell me, / "Oh, my dear poet, / Give me such a precious metal / That is underground!"»
«When the moonlight dispassionately illuminates / The world that is asleep at night,quite all this world, / Sometimes it seems this light just penetrates / In the departed world like under a burial vault. By the moonlight it seems this world is afterlife, / And that before this life we lived...»
«A capricious, avaricious kind — / Like fire, the Russian mind is dire: / Irrepressible, lucidity for hire, / So gay — and gloom will always find. Like an undeviating needle, / It sees the pole in ripples and murky still; / From abstract daydreams in life’s cradle / It shows the co...»