«Octets»
I.
I love the uprise of a texture,
To see after two, three or some
Air gasps, when there will be a gesture,
And deep straightening breath then will come.
5 And space, like a child, half awoken
Chalks arcs with the sail of the yacht, —
The shapes so untied and unbroken, —
And plays, never knowing its cot.
«Восьмистишия»
I.
Люблю появление ткани,
Когда после двух или трех,
А то четырех задыханий
Придет выпрямительный вздох —
И дугами парусных гонок
Открытые формы чертя,
Играет пространство спросонок —
Не знавшее люльки дитя.
«Wake as you will, but wake in me, — / in the cold, in the voiceless depths of me. I will not beg for words, but give / me a sign that you are still alive. Not for long — just a moment of your time. / If not a verse, just a sigh, just a cry. Just a whisper or just a moan. / Just t...»
«But I keep remembering one of them, / that first spring of the blockade… / / How many rusty beds and bunks / littered the streets those days! / They hunched down among the ruins / senselessly trying to screen them. / Their sombre, bony dance twirled / everywhere the ground was bei...»
«When I set out my mother gave me / a little ikon depicting Silence. / Dumbly desperate now, for long / it has had no work beseeching god. / / And the blessed angel of Silence / watched over me jealously. / Twice – and it was no accident – / he turned me from the path. He knew…...»
«I still believe that I shall return to life, / shall wake early one day, at dawn, / in the light, early hours, in the transparent dew, / where the branches are studded with drops, / and a small lake stands in the sundew’s bowl, / reflecting the swift flight of the clouds. / And, inclin...»