«Clear-etched lines of mountains; / The pale-untrustworthy sea… / My excited vision un-curtained, / Drowns in the shoreless leas. In my hidden hopes created / The natural world is ideal, / And all is ashes that is real: / The water, the steppe, the cliffs.»
«Do not cry and do not think: / The past – there’s no such thing! / With a friendly greeting / The light of day breaks in. Falling asleep you ended, / And in waking resurrect. / Look at the sky extended / Without a thought or care. Eternity – a wish fulfilled, / All that is bitt...»
«The measured sound of wheels, / The field, the row of birches, / And many muddled feelings; / Race past, race past, race past. The measured noise and hum, / The sky’s impending horizon, / And many muddled thoughts; / Further! Farther! Distant!»
«The sound, cautiously subdued, / of a fruit having come unglued / from a tree among unquiet hum / of the deepest silence of wood.»