O, pitiful exertions of usurpers!
Like sleep, like snow, like death, to all — a shrine.
A ban on Kremlin! There's no ban on wings, and
Therefore — there is no ban upon Kremlin.
...О, самозванцев жалкие усилья!
Как сон, как снег, как смерть — святыни — всем.
Запрет на Кремль? Запрета нет на крылья!
И потому — запрета нет на Кремль!
«Snow is falling, falling down. / The geraniums are trying / To befriend the sparkles flying / Past the window’s woven bound. Snow is falling, all’s in action, / Smitten, taking off the ground: / The black stairs, the intersection, — / All is being lost and found. Snow is falling...»
«Snowing on, snowing on. / On a windowsill, the flower / Of geranium's reaching out for / Starlets of the snow beyond. Snowing on and all’s in chaos, / All's engaged into a twirl: / Wooden footsteps of back stairs / And a snowbound crossroad turn. Snowing on, snowing on. / Like inst...»
«Beneath the willow wound round with ivy / we take cover from the worst / of the storm, with a greatcoat round / our shoulders and my hands around your waist. I’ve got it wrong. That isn’t ivy / entwined in the bushes round / the wood, but hops. You intoxicate me! / Let’s spread th...»
«Dear, I ventured out of the house late this evening, merely / for a breath of fresh air from the ocean not far away. / The sun was smoldering low like a Chinese fan in a gallery / and a cloud reared up its huge lid like a Steinway. A quarter century back you craved curry and dates from Sen...»