«The table they turned toward the light. / I lay head-first like meat on scales. / My soul throbbed on a thread, / I saw myself from outside: / I was balanced without make-weights / By one greasy weight from the bazaar. / That occurred / At the center of a snow shield, / Pock-marked a...»
«When nature and vocabulary start a quarrel / And word strives hard to separate itself from world, / As a mask from a face, a colour from a silhouette, / Am I a beggar or a Tsar? A scythe or mower? But to my world I did not give the names: / Adam cut reed, and I make baskets. / The scythe,...»
«At night the furniture creaks. / Somewhere the plumbing leaks. / The shoulders from their daily weight / Are given respite at that time. At that time things receive / The speechless souls of people, / And blind, / mute, / ...»
«If only I could rise, wake up, restore the sense, / And in the hardest hour could bless / The labor that has fed the gardens and the fields, / Sip for the last time from the convex bowl / Of fleecy leaves / The water’s crystal brain. Give me one dr...»