Let us praise the twilight of freedom, brothers, the great year of twilight! A thick forest of nets has been let down into the seething waters of night. O sun, judge, people, desolate are the ... [+]
The clock-cricket singing, that's the fever rustling. The dry stove hissing, that's the fire in red silk. The teeth of mice milling the thin supports of life, that's the swallow my daughte ... [+]
Our lives no longer feel ground under them. At ten paces you can't hear our words. But whenever there's a snatch of talk it turns to the Kremlin mountaineer, the ten thick worms his fingers ... [+]
From my hands—take this city not made by hands, my strange, my beautiful brother. Take it, church by church—all forty times forty churches, and flying up the roofs, the small pigeons; And ... [+]
Your name is a—bird in my hand, a piece of ice on my tongue. The lips' quick opening. Your name—four letters. A ball caught in flight, a silver bell in my mouth. A stone thrown into a ... [+]
The Bard is killed! The honor's striver Fell, slandered by a gossip's dread, With lead in breast and vengeful fire, Drooped with his ever-proud head. The Poet's soul did not bear The shameful hurts of ... [+]
The angel was flying through sky in midnight, And softly he sang in his flight; And clouds, and stars, and the moon in a throng Hearkened to that holy song. He sang of the garden of God's ... [+]
I sit and sew—a useless task it seems, My hands grown tired, my head weighed down with dreams— The panoply of war, the martial tred of men, Grim-faced, stern-eyed, gazing beyond the ken Of ... [+]
Lord, who am I to teach the way To little children day by day, So prone myself to go astray? I teach them KNOWLEDGE, but I know How faint they flicker and how low The candles of my knowledge ... [+]
Lady, Lady, I saw your face, Dark as night withholding a star . . . The chisel fell, or it might have been You had borne so long the yoke of men. Lady, Lady, I saw your hands, Twisted, awry ... [+]
O black and unknown bards of long ago, How came your lips to touch the sacred fire? How, in your darkness, did you come to know The power and beauty of the minstrel's lyre? Who first from midst ... [+]
How many scenes, O sun, Hast thou not shone upon! How many tears, O light, Have dropped before thy sight! How many heart-felt sighs, How many piercing cries, How many deeds of woe, Dost thy ... [+]