«You say to me that I am mute — / But you’re the jealous one and loud. / I’m not a wolf nor Paris — wood, / But life from life can’t be seized out. / Yes, I’ve been there, where dark and gray, / Like a pine forest of old stone, / Making great noise, Great City stays — / ...»
«It’s awful not to live but only sleep... / To see all's being ever multiplied, / To have in past so wildly many sins, / That it’s a shame to look up at the sky. When can I pray for mercy for my sins? / I’m on the last of circles’ strong incline. / But most dread and shameful ...»
«The vomit of the war — the feast of the October! / From all this wine, that desperately stinks, / Oh, how loathsome was later your hangover, / My country, sunk in poverty and sins! To please which dogs or swarms of awful demons, / To what a dream of what an evil sleep, / The people kill...»
«I hate to submit to the people’s desire. / Who likes a yoke of a slave? / Trough whole our life we’re in permanent trial, / After — we lay in a grave. I can’t submit to the Heavenly Low / If Lord are my love and my light. / He gave me the ways on the earth, I’ve to go, / How I...»