«There is an hour for those words. / Through muffled sound / the highest rights / tap life. Maybe — in a shoulder, / braced by a forehead. / Maybe — in a ray of light / invisible by day. In a futile trail / of ashes — a wave on a sheet. / Tribute to one’s fear, / and to on...»
« Inheritance — to the orphanage! / I will not. / Great, your corpulence: / I renounce. As I look at my neighbors in the distance — / I renounce. / As I trample down your cobblestones— / I renounce. ==== As in the seventeenth year, / righteous in white, / I stood smirking / ...»
« More than a woman / at the hour of a meeting! / Laurel-hewn, / red rags, / slashed blood — / snow. Here they are, close steel cohort, / pinned to the Kremlin wall, / sleeping / in a row. Laurel — instead of stone / and the Kremlin — rail. / You don’t need / God’s ...»
«The poems grow like heaven’s stars and roses, / Like beauty too — unneeded in my clan. / And for the garlands and apotheosis / There’s one response — how can this be my plan? We sleep — and through the slabs of stone then flutter / The fragrant and four-petalled heav’nly guest...»