«Black spring! Pick up your pen, and weeping, / Of February, in sobs and ink, / Write poems, while the slush in thunder / Is burning in the black of spring. Through clanking wheels, through church bells ringing / A hired cab will take you where / The town has ended, where the showers ...»
«The Lord has rewarded me / With a light-filled and iron heart. / With a gift of singing, a tearful gift. The Lord has protected me / With a white flag. / The Lord has passed me by / With the carnal flame. Hold higher the flag! / The Lord above us! / Heavier than stone — / The...»
«I said, and another heard, / Whispered to a third, who understood, / And the fourth, taking his oak staff, / Went into the night — to a heroic deed. / The world made a song of it, and with that / Song on my lips — O life! — I meet my death.»
«They christened us in the same tub, / They wed us with the same wreath, / They tortured us in the same jail, / They branded us with the same iron. They will build us the same house. / They will cover us with the same mound.»