So again we triumph!
Again we do not come!
Our speeches silent,
Our words, dumb.
Our eyes that have not met
Again, are lost;
And only tears forget
The grip of frost.
A wild-rose bush near Moscow
Knows something of
This pain that will be called
Immortal love.
Таинственной невстречи
Пустынны торжества,
Несказанные речи,
Безмолвные слова.
Нескрещенные взгляды
Не знают, где им лечь.
И только слезы рады,
Что можно долго течь.
Шиповник Подмосковья,
Увы! при чем-то тут...
И это всё любовью
Бессмертной назовут.
«a Sonnet Forehead – / Chalk. / Coffin / Pale. Priest / Sang. / Shaft / Bang! Day / Sacred! / Crypt / Blind. / / Shade – / To hell!»
«In me is the beginning, in me the end. / What’s been accomplished by me a blink! / Yet still I am a reliable chain link: / This happiness to me has been given. In the new but greater Russia they will / erect to me a Janus-faced idol at / the broad cross-roads of two city streets / whe...»
«Walked up — / businesslike, / behind my roar, / behind my height, / took one look, / and saw I was just a boy. / Without a second thought, / you took my heart away / and simply / went off to play — / like a girl with a ball. / And every one — / as if witnessing a miracl...»
«Let us praise, brothers, freedom’s twilight, / The great diminishing year! / A heavy forest of nets is lowered / Into the turbulent waters of night. You are ascending in desolate years, / Oh sun, judge, people. / Let us praise the fateful burden / Which, in tears, the people’s leade...»