«And you, my friends who have been called away, / I have been spared to mourn for you and weep, / Not as a frozen willow over your memory, / But to cry to the world the names of those who sleep. / What names are those! / I slam shut the ...»
«I walked without dragging my feet / but felt heavy at heart and frightened; / and I pulled onto my left hand / the glove that belonged to the right. There seemed to be countless steps, / though I knew there were only three, / and an autumn voice from maples / whispered, "Die with me! I...»
«1. The pillow is already hot / From both of the sides. / The last of the candles has burnt / Out and the ravens’ cries / Are growing more and more plain. / I have not slept all last night / Thinking of sleep is late... / How is unbearably white, / On the white window the drape. /...»
«1. The pillow’s just as hot / when I turn it over. / And now a second candle / is guttering, and crows / are cawing louder than ever. / Not a wink... And it’s too late / even to think of sleep. / White, blindingly white — / a blind on a white window. / Good morni»