«Instead of a letter Tobacco smoke corroded the air. / The room — / is a chapter in Kruchenykh’s hell. / Remember — / this window, / Here / I stroked your hands in a frenzy. / Well, / Your heart encased in iron. / Reviling, / You’ll throw me out, perhaps, / one day. / ...»
«First Prelude to the Poem A strange alarm weighs on my heart, / comrades of posterity! / Rummaging among / these days’ / petrified crap, / exploring the twilight of our times, / you, / possibly, / will inquire about me too. / And, possibly, your scholars / will declare, / wi...»
«Clamor dies. Against a jamb reclining / I step forth and stand upon the stage. / From the distant voices I’m divining / What will happen to me in this age. Agony and night are nailed together / Through my heart by every gaping eye. / If you only please, dear Holy Father, / Would you l...»
«To be famous is not in good taste. / That is not what will exalt us. / Don’t build an archive, it’s but a waste / To raise with manuscripts a fuss. Creation calls for self-surrender / And not loud noise and cheap success. / Shame on the ignorant offender / Who lets all lips his fame...»