«The joyful day blazes... Amid the languid grass, / Everywhere are poppies in patches-like eager / Impotence, like lips filled with temptation / and Poison, like outspread wings of scarlet butterflies. The joyful day blazes... But the garden is both empty / And overgrown. It has long since f...»
«Poppies at Midday Scentlessly and flowerily someone’s / Delicate enfolding is opened — / Wings of scarlet cambric have / Unrolled and will not quiver... Offending with their bloodstained spot / All that cherishes-distance and / Nearness — the ...»
«What heavy, dark delirium! How turbid / And moonlit these heights are! To have / Touched the violin for so many years and / Not recognize the strings in the light! Who needs us? Who has kindled / The two yellow, dismal faces?... / And suddenly the bow felt someone / Take them up and min...»
«Forget the nightingale in the fragrant flowers, / Only do not forget love’s morning... / And the bright-black breast of revivified earth / In the unrevived leaves! Among the tatters of its snowy shirt / Only once did the earth desire too - / Only once was it intoxicated by f...»