Vladimir Mayakovsky
- My soviet passport, by Dorian Rottenberg
- My Soviet Passport, by Herbert Marshall
- The Poem of the Soviet Passport, by Alec Vagapov
«Houses, bewitched by the morning; / The lack of people puts a spell on me, / And freshness lulls me. / In the sky — the wings of a frosty day. Lonely people pass by, / But all is quiet, as if they are not there, / No one, as if there is no one... / In the heights — a pale rose-color...»
«The night bright, the sky studded with stars, / I am all alone in the deserted hall / The air of which is imbued with and poisoned / By the aroma of wilting azaleas. I am tormented by a vague longing / For everything that cannot be again. / The gloomy hall — how grey and boring! — whi...»
«The more the autumn wind is wicked / And the moon desperate, — / The merrier we, vagrants, get / With a bottle of wine. We wandered the whole day through / The field, with a sleuth and a rifle… / We are comrades — nothing more — / Unacknowledging sorrow. What is love? Rapture, ...»
«We create cities from boulders, / Appreciate clear thoughts and precise numbers, / And it is unpleasant and strange for the soul / When the wind drawls a bleak meaningless song. Or the sea laps noisily. Neither hope, nor desire, / All that is precious to us, will not find an answer in them....»