«To Valia Khmara-Barshchevsky Having taken leave of the starry Wastes, / Palm Week was sailing on the / Last doomed piece of frozen snow / Into defunct April’s yellow dusk. It was sailing in fragrant smoke, in / The fainting of death knells, from / Icons with profound eyes and from / ...»
«Again you are with me, my friend autumn, / But your bluish color never froze paler / Through your bare branches’ net, / And I do not recall more lifeless snow. I have never seen your tatters / Sadder and your waters blacker; / The yellow clouds’ pattern in / Your faded old sky weari...»
«The rays still bum under the roads’ arches, / But there among the branches it is ever darker and / More silent: thus a gambler smiles, turning pale, / Already not daring to reckon the blows of fate. Day is already behind shades. Dismal summonings are slowly / Trailed over earth with the f...»
«It happened at Vallen-Koski. / Rain was falling from hazy / Clouds, and wet, yellow planks / Flowed down the dismal slopes. Since the cold night we had been / Yawning, and tears came into our / Eyes; for fun they threw a doll in / For the fourth time that morning. The sodden doll dived...»