I'm not afraid of life. With its exciting sound
It gives to you to burn and to your thoughts to glow.
Disquiet but not thought grows in a manless mist,
And it is cold at nights for flowers crystal with.
But moments scattered are in unemployment mine,
When any touch to soul is painful never mind
I am exciting you among for private peace,
As match in a keen wind enclosed hand mine with…
Let be just this blink… But don’t touch me at next blink,
I’m going by the touch my way avoiding link…
Do notice absent-minded look in silence mine
And don’t prevent around me just to be alive.
That’s better. Just would not me notice other people
In fog, perhaps, and also a creative grief in.
Я жизни не боюсь. Своим бодрящим шумом
Она дает гореть, дает светиться думам.
Тревога, а не мысль растет в безлюдной мгле,
И холодно цветам ночами в хрустале.
Но в праздности моей рассеяны мгновенья,
Когда мучительно душе прикосновенье,
И я дрожу средь вас, дрожу за свой покой,
Как спичку на ветру загородив рукой...
Пусть только этот миг... В тот миг меня не трогай,
Я ощупью иду тогда своей дорогой...
Мой взгляд рассеянный в молчаньи заприметь
И не мешай другим вокруг меня шуметь.
Так лучше. Только бы меня не замечали
В тумане, может быть, и творческой печали.
«Bo-be-o-bee1 sang the mouth / Ve-e-o-mee sang the orbs / Pee-e-e-o sang the brows / Lee-e-e-ey sang the look / Gzee-gzee-gze-o sang the chain / Thus on a canvas of would-be connections / In another dimension there lived the Face. ____ / 1. Khlebnikov wrote in his notebook: “B is bri...»
«Persons, people, and the years1 / Run away forever more / Like the river past the shore. / Nature’s supple glass reveals / Stars — a net, the fishes — we, / Gods — the figments in the deep. ____ / 1. The poem invites comparison with Gavriil Derzhavin’s well-known "The river of...»
«I need but little! A crust of bread / and just a drop of mild / sky overhead, / these clouds above the hill!»
«Hey, you sharp little con men! / The wind is in your head. / In Pugachovian sheepskins / Down Moscow’s streets I tread. / It wasn’t for this we had / The great truth on our side, / So in sables and trotters / All these mockers could ride. / It wasn’t for this the foe / Poured...»