«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...»
«Sight grows dim — my power, / Two invisible diamond lances; / Hearing fails, full of long ago thunder / And the breathing of my father’s house; / Hard knots of muscle grow feeble, / Like hoary oxen on a plow-field; / And behind my shoulders at night / No longer shine two wings. I ...»