“As the future ripens in the past,so the past rots in the future --a terrible festival of dead leaves.”

“Rising from the past, my shadowIs running in silence to meet me.”

“That was when the ones who smiledWere the dead, glad to be at rest.”

“It was a time when only the dead smiled, happy in their peace.”

“Flowers, cold from the dew,And autumn's approaching breath,I pluck for the warm, luxuriant braids,Which haven't faded yet.In their nights, fragrantly resinous,Entwined with delightful mystery,They will breathe in her springlikeExtraordinary beauty.But in a whirlwind of sound and fire,From her shing head they will flutterAnd fall—and before herThey will die, faintly fragrant still.And, impelled by faithful longing,My obedient gaze will feast upon them—With a reverent hand,Love will gather their rotting remains.”

“All's ringing, roaring, grinding, breakers' crash - and silence all at once, release:it means he is tiptoeing over pine needles,so as not to startle the light sleep of space.And it means he is counting the grainsin the blasted ears; it meanshe has come again to the Daryal Gorge,accursed and black, from another funeral.And again Moscow, where the heart's fever burns.Far off the deadly sleighbell chimes,someone is lost two steps from homein waist-high snow. The worst of times...”

“Forgive me, that I manage badly,Manage badly but live gloriously,That I leave traces of myself in my songs,That I appeared to you in waking dreams.”