«Here is reward for all my sins, / This triumph and disgrace: / A poem suddenly begins / From nothing, from no place. The words come magically half-dressed, / Wearing haphazard clothes, / Like roses falling on my chest... / — And you, toss me a rose! No, throw it past that cloud that ...»
«Upon fresh ground falls and melts / At once unnoticed a thin film. / The harsh and chilly spring / The ripened buds does kill. / Sight of early death is so horrid / That I can't look at God's creation, and am riven / With sadness, to which king David / Millenia of life has given.»
«Why do you pretend to be / A wind, a bird, or a stone? / Why do you smile at me / From the sky with a sudden dawn? Do not torment me, do not touch! / Leave me to wise cares, away! / The inebriated flame sways / Over dried-up marshes gray. And Muse in a torn kerchief / Sings disconsol...»
«Transparent glass of empty sky / The bleached-out bulky prison building / And churchgoers' solemn singing / Over Volkhov, growing blue with light. September wind tore birch leaves off / Through branches tossed and screamed with hate / And city recollects its fate: / Here ruled Martha an...»