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Once, in times forgotten,
Through the steppe, a riderMade his way apace.While he sped to battle,Nearing from the dimDistance, a dark forestRose ahead of him.Something kept repeating,Seemed his heart to graze:Tighten up the saddle,Fear the watering-place.But he did not listen.Heeding but his will,At full speed he boundedUp the wooded hill;Rode into a valley,Turning from the mound,Galloped through a meadow,Skirted…
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My mournful soul, you, sorrowing
You have become the burial vaultOf all those hounded down.Devoting to their memoryA verse, embalming them,In torment, broken, lovinglyLamenting over them,In this our mean and selfish time,For conscience and for questYou stand-a columbariumTo lay their souls to rest.The sum of all their agoniesHas bowed you to the ground.You smell of dust, of death’s decay,Of morgue…
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Try and don’t let me grieve. Come and try to extinguish
Madness, try and forbid me to feel, come and try!Do not let me rant on about you! We’re alone-don’t be shy.Now, extinguish it, do! Only-hotter!
How many sticky buds, candle ends
April. Puberty sweats from the park,and the forest’s blatantly gleaming.A noose of feathered throats gripsthe wood’s larynx, a lassoed steer,netted, like a gladiatorial organ,it groans steel-piped sonatas here.Poetry! Be a Greek sponge with suckers,among green stickiness drenched,I’ll consent, by the sopping woodof a green-stained garden bench.Grow sumptuous pleats and flounces,suck up the gullies and clouds,Poetry,…
Here will be echoes in the mountains,
The rocks, the dwellings in the village,The sorry little inn, the gloomOf something black beyond the Terek,Clouds moving heavily. Up thereThe day was breaking very slowly;It dawned, but light was nowhere near.One sensed the heaviness of darknessFor miles ahead around KazbekWound on the heights: though some were tryingTo throw the halter from their neck.As if…
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A sailor drowned in the sea’s depths
a tall candle before the ikon of our Ladypraying that he’ll come back quickly, that the weather may be goodher ear cocked always to the wind.While she prays and supplicates,the ikon listens, solemn, sad,knowing the son she waits for never will come back.
What are we waiting for, assembled in the forum?
Why isn’t anything happening in the senate?Why do the senators sit there without legislating?Because the barbarians are coming today.What laws can the senators make now?Once the barbarians are here, they’ll do the legislating.Why did our emperor get up so early,and why is he sitting at the city’s main gateon his throne, in state, wearing the…