«You, who first stood before the source / With your smile, so deadly stoned! / How tortures us a look, you own, — / The heavy look of the night-birds. / But awful years will soon pass, / You’ll be again and young and careless, / And we’ll preserve the cold, mysterious, / Of minute...»
«And now, loading the camel's hump / With worldly troubles, heavy as a rock, / We leave — the camel's humble and plump — / To finish the 'unfinishable' work: In herds of camels — to enjoy a pool, / In Hell of sands — to see Blue Nile in thoughts, / As camel's lord and Lord insta...»