«The grasses are tender, the tombstones / Are white, and copper rings out / Triumphantly: “The blue ice is / Broken up and it must be burnt.” The sun seems to spin, / Forgetting its long winter / Imprisonment, only I hear death’s / Summons in the Easter hymn. Why! under the snow a...»
«Oh, eve of eternal workdays, / Viscous sting of ennui... in / The dusty heat of middays the / Din and paint of the station... Half-dead Hies on the / Nailed-up kiosk, on / The spilt whitewash. / Blind, greedy and deaf. Faded green flag, white / Puffs of steam, and / The unanswered ...»
«Enough of deeds, enough of words, let / Us remain silent, without a smile. / It Is snowing from low clouds, and the / Sky’s light is dismal and wavering. The black willow bushes are tossing / In a struggle incomprehensible / To them; until tomorrow, I tell / You - today you and I are ...»
«Out of the fog two eyes burned / The mute blackness of the snow. / And the smoke remained in the / Air as a fountain’s hot gold. I know that a fiery dragon all / Coverуd in downy snow will now / On its riotous course break the / Sleep of the spellbound distance. And with it weary sl...»