«August — asters, / August — stars, / August — bunches / Of grapes and ashberry / Rusty — August! Like a child, August / You play with your apple / Good-natured and full of weight. / Like with hand, with your imperial / Name you do caress the heart: / August! — Heart!...»
«A virgin and a bride, I passed away / He used to tell me my allure was gleaming / Of love, in frenzy, I was only dreaming, — / And with delight, I lived in brief dismay. One April day I simply walked away, / I left forever, passive and not grieving — / But there was still a reason in ...»
«A lone white sail for an instant / Appears in haze of azure foam, / What does it seek in lands so distant? / What did it leave behind at home? The wind is whistling, the mast / Bends, screeching in resentment... / It seeks no happiness, — alas — / Nor is it fleeing from contentment!...»
«Let’s go to the city, where we / Sometimes would stay on occasion. / And leave the past behind, / Like luggage at the station. Let the past try to safeguard itself, / For us, there’s no preservation. / We’ll feel some sadness, but more / New vigor and strength and elation. Alread...»