«O Muse of Tears… / Tsvetaeva …I turned away from everything, / From earth’s every blessing. / The stump in the water became / The guardian spirit of this place. We are akin to guests on this planet, / To live – is simply a habit. / In the air I seem to hear / Two voices excha...»
«Echo answers like a bird. / Pasternak 1 The inimitable voice ceased yesterday, / He’s abandoned us, the talker with groves. / He’s become the life-giving ear of grain, / Or the softest rain of which he sang. / And all the flowers of this world, / Blossomed to signify his death. / ...»
«Fumbling in black memory you’ll find / Those same long gloves, / A Petersburg night. And the air, / Close and sweet, of some dark box. And a wind from the gulf. And there, / Between the lines, the cries on-stage, / Blok smiling scornfully at you, / He, the tragic tenor of his age. »
«It’s not sombre or funereal, / It’s nearly as transparent as smoke, / This newlywed’s obsolete / Filmy, black and white hat. / And the aquiline profile beneath, / The satin of Parisian bangs, / And an eye, oblong and green, / And an eye, sharp and intense.»