«The bread is poisoned and the air’s drunk dry, / How difficult to doctor wounds! / Joseph sold into Egypt / Could not have grieved so much for home! As they ride beneath a star-studded sky, / Bedouin tribesmen with closed eyes / Compose wild legends / About the troubled day gone by. ...»
«To N. Gumilyov Above the yellow Offices of State / A muzzy blizzard long swirled and fanned, / And mounting in a sleigh, an advocate / Closes his greatcoat with expansive hand. The steamers at winter moorings. In the sun / The thickened glass of cabins has caught alight. / Monstrous, lik...»
«We look at woods and say: / Here is a forest of ships and of masts, / The pink pines / Stand free to their tops from mossy accretions, / They should creak in a storm / As do lone-standing stone pines / In the infuriated foresdess air; / Beneath the salty heel of wind the plumb line sta...»
«I’ll chase through the gypsy camp of dark streets / After a spray of cherries in a black spring carriage / After its hood of snow and endless windmill creak. I only recall the rimfire of chestnut curls / Smoked over with bitterness, no, with sour formic acid; / They left an amber dryness ...»