«To lose the freshness of speech, the simplicity of feeling, / Isn’t that, for us, like a painter losing the power of sight, / Or an actor, their voice and movement, / Or a lovely woman, her beauty? But don’t try to keep to yourself / This gift the heavens have granted: / We’re conde...»
«For Vasily Komarovsky Such strange words / That quiet April day brought me. / You knew it was still alive in me, / That dreadful week of passion. I heard no pealing of bells, / Floating in clear azure, / For seven days copper laughter chimed, / Silvery sorrow streamed. And I, veiling ...»
«How can you bear to view the Neva, / How can you bear to cross its bridges?.. / No surprise I’m marked for sadness, / Since that vision of you appeared. / Sharp, the black angels’ wings, / Soon, the judgement day; / And raspberry-coloured bonfires blossom / Like roses, in the snow.»
«Slender are you as a candle. Your eyes are / Swords that pierce mine. No, my sweet, you mistake: / I do not long for a tryst and its wonders — / Just let me burn like a monk at the stake! Your love? Oh, no! — I don't seek it. Nor dare I / Offer unwanted caresses. Apart / From you I st...»