«As a sad look I fancy autumn. / On a serene and misty day / To woods I often choose my way / And gratified there stay / Alone in pleasant mood begotten. / Beneath a pine in a land of needles, / While tasting lazily a berry, / I muse on matters sad and merry / And listen to wood...»
«Morning! Here’s morning! I’m growing aware / Of the red sun drawing rays in the air, Cold of a bright autumn cloudless day / Is waking me in a cheerful way. Charms of the night from my soul are streaming; / I will come out: there heavens are beaming, / / Spangles in the air are ...»
«I like to drive up to a village in the eve, / To look at crows above the church and to believe — / At height they are somehow playing. / Among the endless fields and flowery precious meads, / On quiet banks, amid the gardens went to weeds / I like to listen to...»
«About the lake I roam; clouds / Of mist lie on the round hill, / The wood looks dark, and strange seem sounds / Of fishers’ calls in the night still. The silent depth of heavens brimming / With even and translucent shade, / The nearly sleeping wave is dreaming / And gives off cooln...»