«(To my friend, S. K. Bulich) Select a dark night and in a field, unpeopled, naked, / dip into gray twilight.... May the air, having fanned, becalm, / May the stars, winking, in the cold sky slumber on.... / Tell the heart not to count its thumps.... / Stop in mid-step and listen! You're no...»
«Sad and made of copper / The symbol we are wed, / Even our comedies / End a little sadly…. / Our joyful neighbors / Wear their infernal / Hirsute fur coats…. / And that only… banal / Are our mangy bears / With prey trembling / In blood-covered lips.»
«For what purpose, when dreams betray, / That words brim over with delusions? / For what purpose, on a forgotten grave, / Grass grows greener and emits a noise? For what purpose these lunar heights, / If my garden is silent and dark? / And the tails of her plaits are untied, / And I hear...»
«Among worlds shone, amid glimmers, / A single star whose name I repeat.... / Not so that I may come to love it, / But because I am weary of the rest. And if I find doubt a burden, / I seek only from her an answer, / Not because she shines brightly / But because with her I need no light.»