«In closeness, there’s a sacred line, / That love and passion cannot cross, — / Let lips in silence merge sublime, / And hearts explode from passion’s force. Both, friendship’s powerless and years / Of fiery bliss without rancor, / When spirit’s free and never nears / Dull sens...»
«All’s taken away: my love and my power. / The body, thrown into city it hates, / Finds no joy in the sunlight. With every hour, / The blood grows colder in my veins. The merry Muse is lately full of grief: / She looks at me and doesn’t make a sound. / She lays her head, wearing the da...»
«Words’ ease and freshness — is it less / For us than for an artist — vision, / For actors — voice and hand precision, / For beauties — beauty and finesse? The gift you have is not from earth, / Don’t try to save it for yourself: / We are condemned — we know this well —...»
«To V. A. Komarovsky This quiet April day imparted / Words full of strangeness and mystique. / You knew that I was still faint-hearted / From the distressing Maundy week. I didn’t hear the ringing clang / That swam up high in azure glaze. / Either a copper laughter rang / Or silver te...»