«Now here is our noble patent — / The poet hands it in to us; / It has the dominance of spirit / And subtle tint of life of ours. / / In eastern hills you won't find Helicon, / A laurel will not grow on ice, / The Chukchi haven't got Anacreon, / On Tutchev Komis won't set eyes. / ...»
«Like a lily that looks into the mountain stream, / You stood like my first ever song of my dream, / Was there a winner at that, and who won the scene, / The stream by the flower or the flower by the stream? / / Your young little soul grasped all in some way, / All that magical power all...»
«I had a dream: I slept, and I imagined / That I was dead and lost in reverie at that; / And lovingly, that reverie by kind of magic / Had given rise to hope in my depressing heart. / / What kind of joy I want, I don't know, really. / There rings the bell, — and all is clarified; / M...»
«I am bored with perpetual verbiage on all that is fine and gracious; / All these chats only make me feel weary and yawn... / Leaving the pedants I run to converse with you, dear friend; / I know that these eyes of yours, the wise dark black eyes, / Have more beauty in them than hundreds of f...»