Marina Tsvetaeva
- All repeat the first line..., by Rolf W. F. Gross
Marina Tsvetajeva (nederlands)
- `k Herhaal aldoor mijn eerste vers..., Arie Van Der Ent
«Your vague image, frail and born in ache, / In the fog I could not sense by touch. / “God!” my tongue let out, though by mistake, / For I did not mean to say that much. So God’s name, much like a wide-winged bird, / From my chest took on its feathered flight. / Up ahead of it, dense...»
«My quiet dream, by every minute granted – / A ghostly wood where magic spell is cast; / Like silky curtains, airy and enchanted, / Some iffy rustle moves there, flying fast; In cloudy arguments and crazy meetings, / At the crossroads of eyes astonished wide, / A noise unclear, invisib...»
«A weightless breath has not disturbed the frosty air. / Sad freedom plaguing me, I see me rise up there / With cold soft hymns. I want me lost, evaporated / Forever; but to walk I happen to be fated, Along the snowy street — while I can hear dogs bark, / And on this evening hour the west ...»
«Children’s books, you alone I shall trust; / Children’s thoughts, you alone I shall cherish; / All that’s big is to vanish and perish: / Raise me up from deep sadness I must. I’m dead tired of living, and none / Would I take of what life were to grant me, / But my suffering lan...»