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Credo


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:

Nature

Well, that’s her, that’s how she is: Nature, and the spirit / refuses to know her. / There’s the meadow, hung with the scent of honey / and a whiff of swamps, / / And the beginning wail of the wind, / like wolves in the distance, / and up over the fringes of pine / ...

Creation

My words spawned giants, / and they sat guzzling wine / all night, crimson wine, / horrible wine. / / I would not have known such weariness / had they been drinking my blood; / Dawn’s fingers were running across / my back when I fell asleep. / / I woke when it was evening...

Stockholm

I dreamed of Stockholm: why? / A restless, troubled dream / sprung from some different time, / almost a nightmare - almost... / / A holiday, maybe: who knows? / The bell kept clanging, that bell, / like a huge organ gone mad, / and a whole city praying, buzzing, roaring... / / ...

Sweden

Land of quick cold, / of forests and heavy-backed mountains, where / rumpled waterfalls / roar like prophets of doom - / / Sacred land, sacred forever, / do you still remember / when your grim-faced Varangians / went out across Europe to Greece? / / Is it right ? Can it be righ...

You and Me

Sure, I’m not good enough, / I come from the provinces, / I don’t strum a guitar / but blow an old reed flute. / / I don’t read poems in velvet rooms and red-plush / halls, to dark dresses and starched black coats; / I read to waterfalls, I read to dragons, / I rea...

Ice Floes and the River Neva

Transparent spring green / was sprouting on the islands - / but no, the Neva’s fickle, / and turns gloomy in a flash. / / On the bridge: look. / Ice floes jumping, green / like copper poison, / rustling, as terrible as snakes. / / Our dreams sweat, and labor; a geographer...