We live without feeling the country beneath us,
Our speeches are not heard ten steps away,
And where is enough for half a conversation,
They will remember the Kremlin highlander...

O. Mandelstam

The sound is approaching. And, submissive to the aching
sound,
The soul becomes younger.
And in a dream I press your old one to my lips
hand,
Not breathing...

A. Blok

On election day I saw off my friends
And at the station I met Italians,
They laughed loudly, like children,
And they ran along the platform.
And we stood next to each other like beggars,
Holding heavy chains around my neck
Russian specific concerns
And our amazing freedoms.

A. Timofeevsky

Vesuvius opened its mouth - smoke poured out in a cloud - flames
Widely developed as a battle flag.
The earth is agitated - from the shaky columns
Idols fall! A people driven [by fear]
Under the stone rain, [under the inflamed ashes],
In crowds, old and young, fleeing from the city...

A. Pushkin

I should show you, mocker
And the favorite of all friends,
To the cheerful sinner of Tsarskoye Selo,
What will happen to your life -
Like a three hundredth, with transmission,
You will stand under the Crosses
And with my hot tears
Burn through New Year's ice.
There the prison poplar sways,
And not a sound - but how much is there
Innocent lives are ending.

A. Akhmatova

Dear lad, tender lad,
Don't be ashamed, you are mine forever;
The same rebellious fire is in us,
We live one life.
I am not afraid of ridicule:
We doubled up
We're exactly double nuts
Under a single shell.

A. Pushkin

Dishes... Table... Broom and bed...
Plumbing and an eternal bucket,
(It’s like an urn or, or rather, a bowl),
Which doesn't need to be poured out.

Here at six o'clock it is prescribed
get up…
I drink tea with bread... For lunch it’s all cabbage soup and porridge...
Soup for dinner and bed at ten, here's our
Life, if you can call it that...

N. Minaev

They will bury, bury deep,
The poor mound will grow with grass,
And we will hear: far, high
It's raining somewhere on earth.

We won't ask about anything anymore,
Waking up from a lazy sleep.
We know: if it’s not loud, it’s autumn there,
If it’s stormy, it means it’s spring...

A. Blok

where is the famous fountain where is the tourist straight
at McDonald's at McDonald's under volleys of wine and salad
I must once again let him crawl as an old man
and a mortal sleeps on the steps of the chamber at dusk
I have to come almost this year
blood from the nose must get there alive otherwise
paving stones in the face and I’ll never get there again
to those delicate cakes to those tiramisu on hand
and where up there in its snow-white darkness
lying whose name is inscribed on the water for us

A. Tsvetkov

How does a thing live without you, is it boring? Not at all!
Among other people, in another time,
I saw that she was like Pushkin’s Olga,
She is not faithful to the dead, she has forgotten her family’s home.
Otherwise I would feel unbearably sorry for her.
On four bent legs, with an abdomen
Silver, but no, she is valued here too,
He doesn’t want anything, doesn’t remember anyone.
And decorates the table, and if conversations
Not the ones that were there - simpler, poorer -
Monograms and patterns still sparkle,
And it’s like an angel is soldered to the side of it.
I still took it in my hands for a moment,
Heavy as a dream. He returned it and looked away.
What would I like? To show your excitement?
Did you cry? Did you spill sand on the table?

A. Kushner

If the nights are prison and deaf,
If dreams are cobwebby and subtle,
So you know that the old women are already close,
From near Revel the Estonians are close.

When they came in, they curtsied so strictly,
I cannot escape from long captivity,
Their clothes are dark and shabby,
And everyone has a log in their knapsack.

I know, tomorrow from the painful horror
I will be different from myself...
How many times have I asked them: “Forget...”
And I read them silently: “We can’t”...

I. Annensky

And the line never ends