«On Day of Victory, so gentle, dim and famous, / When Dawn is red as red is burning Flame, / Like Widow over Gravestone nameless — / Belated Spring’s in troubles all the same. / She hurries not to rise up from her knees: / Would breathe on Bud, slightly caress fresh Grasses, / Take of...»
«We all became by hundreds years older, / And this was happened through an hour one: / Was smoking the planes’ deeply plugged body — / The summer, short, was ready to be gone. At once, a road grew the strongly various, / And a cry flew there, with a silver ring, / With closed eyes, I p...»
«My sister Muse looked at my flaming face, — / Her glance is the bright one and clear — / Took my gold ring off its lawful place — / That first spring present I bear. “Muse! Do you see how happy are they — / Widows, women and maidens?.. / I’d take my death on a wheel every day,...»
«To us, separation is just entertainment, / The woes are dull without us. / Whether a drunk fame would loom in our chamber, / Or thirteen hour would thrust? / Or just forgot, browbeat... What’s a row? / Who makes at doors such a fight? / I’m to go back to my gate, anyhow, / To bid a...»