«The smiles of summer are lost on me, / I find no secrets in winter / But I have observed almost without fail / Three autumns in every year. The first – a holiday madness / Thumbing its nose at summer / Leaves fly, like pages from notebooks / the smell of smoke is incense-sweet / and...»
«The smiles of Summer elude me, / secrets in Winter disappear / but I can catch, almost precisely / three Autumns for each year. The first, all over the place / and it was Summer last night / it’s like a day off. Notebook scraps / of leaves blowing, smoke smells incense-sweet and e...»
«All in the Moscow is flooded with the verses, / Pierced through with awful spears of the rhymes. / Let we abide with them on different courses, / Let the full silence crowns over us, / Let muteness would be the secret symbol / Of them with you, though always seemed – with me, / But you...»
«We waited commonly for sleep or even death. / The instances were wearisome as ages. / But suddenly the wind's refreshing breath / Touched through the window the Holy Bible's pages: An old man goes there — who's now all white-haired — / With rapid steps and merry eyes, alone, / He ...»