You do not know just what you've been forgiven.

It is unbearably painful for the soul to love silently.

I am in the middle of it: chaos and poetry; poetry and love and again, complete chaos. Pain, disorder, occasional clarity; and at the bottom of it all: only love; poetry. Sheer enchantment, fear, humiliation. It all comes with love

Courage: Great Russian word, fit for the songs of our children's children, pure on their tongues, and free.

How the miracle of our meeting Shone there and sang, I didn't want to return From there to anywhere. Happiness instead of duty Was bitter delight to me. Not obliged to speak to anyone, I spoke for a long while. Let passions stifle lovers, Demanding answers, We, my dear, are only souls At the limits of the world.

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

Call me a sinner, Mock me maliciously: I was your insomnia, I was your grief.