«L’aroma di gigli semi-appassiti / Annebbia le mie fantasie leggere. / I gigli mi parlano di morte, / Del tempo in cui non ci sarò più. Pace — per la mia anima placata. / Nulla la ferisce o le dà gioia. / Non scordarti degli ultimi miei giorni, / Ricordami, quando non ci sarò pi...»
«For many days along the river Ocean / With open sail, towards the blurry East / To predetermined land we are in motion, / The singing waves get tired in the mist. The eye of ending day is peeping crimson / And now far away we see the sight / Of sleeping land. And shading to horizon / Th...»
«The scarlet of the dawn has woven on the lake. / In the pine forest the wood grouse are crying with ringing. There is an oriole crying somewhere, having hidden in the hollow. / But only I cannot cry — it is light on my soul. I know, by evening you'll come out by the ring of roads, / We'll ...»
«The high waters have licked / The bed with smoke. / The half moon has dropped / Its yellow reigns. I'm sailing a boat, / Colliding with the banks. / The churches have / Orange spires by the spinning wheel. With gloomy chirping / In the silence of the swamps / A black wood grouse / ...»