«There's a season alight with its own, strange shimmer / Of misted sun, most tenderly warm. / People call it / Indian summer / And it rivals the spring itself in charm. Already the flying gossamer's clinging / Lightly, warily round the face... / How full is ...»
«In sheepskin coats of homely peasant cut / From villages far south of the Oka / They came, three strangers. Each had left his hut / To put his case about the way things are. All Russia tossed, distraught by war and famine / With everything confused, disturbed, displaced. / She roared and ...»
«The sparse, untidy, ginger-coloured curls / In meagre whisps about her head lie scattered; / Her little blouse is faded, old and tattered. / She looks a freak among the boys and girls / Playing around her, poor, misshapen creature / With crooked teeth and sharp, ungainly features. / Not ...»
«Shall I live always / Sitting at home? / Wasting my youth here, / Never to roam? And by the window / Shall I always stay, / The far road watching / By night and by day? Are the hawk's pinions / Unfettered never? / Is ev'ry journey / Barred him for ever? To foreign peoples / Fe...»