Valery Bryusov
- To a Woman, by Dina Belyayeva
(You are a woman; you’re a book of books...)
Valériy Briúsov (español)
- Dedicatoria a la mujer, Kseniya Tokareva
(Eres una mujer, eres un libro entre tantos libros...)
«I used to have a dream, it comes to me each night: / I went somewhere by train — and I am left behind. / I've gotten off my car, small station's lost in snow, / I see my train to start, it's off, it's on the go, / I try with all my might to run — and feel: I can't, / I cannot move in...»
«I've been there, yes, and so what? / It's all bygone, I have forgot. / I can't recall a date, a day, / a battlefield, a river crossed. / I'm from the ranks. I'm No Name. / I'm unaccounted-for and lost. / I 'm an accidental bullet miss. / I'm blood-stained January ice. / I'm froz...»
«To B. Slutsky A neighbourhood, suburbs, a town — what name do they call it? / We'll pass it, we'll go away, swirls of dust on the road. What drives us, preventing from stopping — a hunger, a fear? / A neighbourhood, suburbs, a town — what town is here? What for are we looking, what fo...»
«The grove in the fall — weeping amber, the circling of leaves, / the dark slow water. / The season of fall, and the temple of quietened trees, / the nature's high altar. The season of fall, what's your promise? I live in suspense, / in anticipation / of some future date, of the meeting,...»