“And soon all of us will sleep under the earth, we who never let each other sleep above it.”

“Who sleeps at night? No one is sleeping.
In the cradle a child is screaming.
An old man sits over his death, and anyone
young enough talks to his love, breathes
into her lips, looks into her eyes.”

“Tonight - I am alone in the night,a homeless and sleepless nun!Tonight I hold all the keys to thisthe only capital cityand lack of sleep guides me on my path.You are so lovely, my dusky Kremlin!Tonight I put my lips to the breastof the whole round and warring earth.Now I feel hair - like fur - standing on end:the stifling winds blow straight into my soul.Tonight I feel compassion for everyone,those who are pitied, along with those who are kissed.”

“Your name is a -- bird in my handa piece of -- ice on the tongueone single movement of the lips.Your name is: five signs,a ball caught in flight, asilver bell in the moutha stone, cast in a quiet poolmakes the splash of your name, andthe sound is in the clatter ofnight hooves, loud as a thunderclapor it speaks straight into my forehead,shrill as the click of a cocked gun.Your name -- how impossible, itis a kiss in the eyes onmotionless eyelashes, chill and sweet.Your name is a kiss of snowa gulp of icy spring water, blueas a dove. About your name is: sleep.”

“However much you feed a wolf, it always looks to the forest. We are all wolves of the dense forest of Eternity.”

“I opened my veins. Unstoppablylife spurts out with no remedy.Now I set out bowls and plates.Every bowl will be shallow.Every plate will be small.And overflowing their rims,into the black earth, to nourishthe rushes unstoppablywithout cure, gushespoetry ...”

“What is this gypsy passion for separation, thisreadiness to rush off when we've just met?My head rests in my hands as Irealize, looking into the nightthat no one turning over our letters hasyet understood how completely andhow deeply faithless we are, which isto say: how true we are to ourselves.”