Marina Tsvetaeva
- Some — made of stone, others — of clay..., by Andrey Kneller
- Who`s made of stone, who`s made of mud..., by Ilya Shambat
«Even in repentance there is pleasure: / But how bitter. As though from on high / Stones are thrown into the depths of the gorge / And the spirit abides quite alone. Out of the depths there arises / to the heights a muffled, troubled murmur. / The unbaring of spirit torments you: / With ...»
«Those who are woken, pray for me, / All those who hold a splinter of my soul. / The hour has come, brief steps lie to the goal — / All I have seen in dreams has come to be. Brothers and friends are lost in weary sleep. / The spirit is in mortal suffering spent. / The hour has come; the ...»
«В бдение молете се за мен, / сбрали крехките отломки на душата. / Час настъпва, следва пътят кратък, / сънищата ми се сбъдват в този ден. Дух на смъртна мъка е залог; »
«The coachman sits like a king, / Wadded in armor, on a throne, / Spade-bearded like an icon, / Ringing with chain mail of coins. / And the poor horse flutters its arms, / Stretching like a coney fish, / Or, once more, flashing its eight legs / From out its gleaming belly.»