Thirty years now Russia’s lived in fetters,
in Magadan, in Kolyma —
but the Russia that will live for ever
is the one now dying in Kolyma.
Россия тридцать лет живёт в тюрьме.
На Соловках или на Колыме.
И лишь на Колыме и Соловках
Россия та, что будет жить в веках.
Всё остальное — планетарный ад:
Прокля́тый Кремль, злощастный Сталинград.
Они достойны только одного —
Огня, испепелящего его.
«Sleep has not touched my eyes / When the first gleam of daylight / Steals through the window-pane... Fighting with dismal night-time thoughts / My troubled mind tosses and turns, / My heart is tormented. My heart is tormented... Peace be with you, / My heart, full of anguish! / Peace ...»
«Midnight phantoms hover / Glittering bright with sparks in the darkness. / But my eyes cannot make out / How many of them, on their ominous wings. Midnight phantoms groan / Like a sick man in exhausted sleep, / They rise to the surface, and groan and sink again –— / But what are the...»
«A golden cloud spent the night / Resting on the breast of the giant crag; / Come the morning, it darted away, / Airily playing in the breeze. But it left behind a patch of moisture / In a crevice of the ancient rock. / Alone it stands, the mighty crag, as deep in thought, / It quietly ...»
«How all the blood in my breast / Flooded into my heart, / When the gaze from your eyes / Fastened itself upon me! For long I could not understand / Its silent language... / I sought its meaning / With fear and anguish... Suddenly all doubts vanished / And my fear forever stilled... /...»