«The dull sounds of gas flares / Above the dead brightness of heads, / The tedium’s black contagion / From deserted tables, And there, among the sallow-faced, / Harbouring the anguish of the habit, / Trying to solve on the discoloured pages / The odious puzzle of being.»
«Either meadows, pray tell, or clouds, or water / Bewitched by the yellow moon: / A silvery expanse, a silvery distance / Above me, before me, behind me… Not regretting anything… wishing nothing… / Only that the sorceress’ mask would gleam / And that its tale would unravel / Into...»
«From the smothering soot of the earth / The fiery speck got out, / And the shadows began to flow gently, / Merging strange contours. I knew that I couldn’t sleep: / While my lips prayed, / Those importunate words began / Shifting in the brain. I lay, and the shadows drifted, / Prob...»
«The heavens have driven us completely mad: / Blinding us with either fire, or snow, / And, snarling, the stubborn winter / Has retreated beastly behind April. Slipping into oblivion for an instant — / And again the helmet is thrust over the brows, / The streams, gone under the crusted s...»