«To lose the freshness of the words and sense, for us, / Is it same as for an artist to lose vision, / Or for an actor — voice and motion, / Or for a gorgeous woman — her finesse? But do not seek now for yourself to keep / What heaven has given to you below: / We have been judged —Â...»
«The quiet April day has sent me / What an unusual, strange missive. / You knew that passionately in me / The scary week is still alive. / I did not hear those ringing bells / That swam along in glazier clear. / For seven days sounded copper laugh / Or poured from eyes a silver tear....»
«This city by the fearsome river / Was my crib blessed and dear / And a solemn wedding bed / Which the garlands for the head / Your young cherubs held above — / A city loved with bitter love. The subject of my prayers / Were you, moody, calm, and austere. / There first the groom came...»
«The darkest days of the year / Must become the most clear. / I can't find words to compare — / Your lips are so tender and dear. Only to raise your eyes do not dare, / Keeping the life of me. / They're lighter than vials premier, / And deadlier for me. I understand now, that we need ...»