«Life is tricky with enchanting pathos / That is why it is so powerful, and / It composes its pernicious letters / With its outrageous, rugged hand. / / When I close my eyes I tacitly declare: / Touch your heart and you will plainly see, / Life is fraudulent, but here and there / ...»
«Both this street and this little house / Have been long so familiar to me. / Up the window the blue straws of wires / Are weighed down as they once used to be. / / There've been years of austere contingency / Years of vehement endeavours, too. / I remember my village, my infancy / ...»
«I have left my endeared home, / Getting out of my Russia of blue. / Little grove by the pond will warm / My old mother's sorrow anew. / / Like a golden croaker the moon / Lies prostrate on the water tranquil. / Grizzly hair, like apple-tree bloom, / In my father's beard will spill...»
«Don't you force a smile, girl, tensely, like you do, / The one I"m in love with isn't really you. / / I suppose you know it, and you know it well, / I"m not here to see you but another girl. / / I was passing by, and, well, I didn't care, — / I saw you and wanted just to stop and...»