«The slanting pictures fly in like streaming rain / From the roadway where candles are snuffed, / But on their hooks and walls I’m unable to train them / To fall into line with feet and rhymes. But what if the universe were just — a mask? / Such that in certain latitudes, / Winter caus...»
«You are engrossed in ledgers, / In plans and tragic policies, / You who once sang to the brink / The Flying Dutchman with your verse. A storm swelled at your canvas tent / And roared, intensifying, / Until you, wing d still, descended / At last to walk beside me again. And now you slog...»
«For Nadezhda Aleksandrovna Zalshupina Why must life put up with such eccentrics / As every day for a small token / It passes for revue over the abyss / Hurrying from Potsdam as the sun goes down? He passes out roses and mignonettes / From a basket, at the cornerstone that he rents, / Whe...»
«1 In the trading district where a person’s feet / Can hardly step, a fortune-teller’s footsteps go / Stepping through the raging storm, a street / Where men, dead-like, sleep in the snow, — But wait, in the trading district where a per- / son’s feet can hardly step, a fortune-telle...»