Gennady Shpalikov
- I will grow out reaching you..., by Konstantin Yakovlev
- I will return as grass in spring..., by Natasha Gotskaya
«Your harnessed horse drank water from your palms. / Reflections of birches broke in the pond. I looked out the window at your blue headdress. / The wind ruffled your black snakelike curls. I wanted, in the shimmering foamy streams, / To tear a sharp kiss from your scarlet lips. But with a s...»
«Winds, winds, o winter winds, / Envelop my past life with snow. / I want to be a bright lad / Or a flower from in-between fields. To the sound of a shepherd’s whistle, / I want to die for myself and for all. / The evening snow fills my ears / With the stars’ small bells. How nice i...»
«Sad streets, / Piles of snow and frost. / Desperate rascals / With carts of cigarettes. / Wanderers of dirty streets, / Playthings of a wicked game, / They’re all pickpockets, / They’re all merry thieves. / Nikitskaya is the turf of that gang; / This one controls Tverskaya. / ...»
«Who am I? What am I? Just a dreamer / Looking for a ring of happiness in the dark, / Living this life as if by happenstance, / Just like others on earth. And I’m only kissing you out of habit, / Because I’ve kissed many, / And speaking words of love / As though I’m lighting matche...»