«With a cane he feels his way, / blind man on a random walk, / carefully he plants a foot / and mumbles something to himself. / In the whiteness of his eyes / a universe reflected back: / a house, a field, a fence, a cow, / patches of a pale blue sky — / everything that he can't see»
«for Sergei Krechetov A thin howl from the dogs on guard. / Tonight still camped in the same place, / no-good vagabond orphans, we are / warming our hands at the bonfire. A sullen look beneath the brows / from empty nights of far-fetched sleep. / The smoke is full of ruby floaters / whi...»
«There was a house here. They recently dismantled / the upstairs for firewood, leaving just the rough / lower stonework structure. I go there / often of an evening to relax. The open sky / and green trees in the little courtyard / rise up so fresh from all that's fallen, / and there's the...»
«If you have eyes — through day you'll see a night / the rays from that inflaming disk won't reach. / A pair of swallows fighting to escape / flap at the window, where they feebly cheep. But that transparent yet unyielding sheet / was never cut by wings, however sharp; / no darting that ...»