"Какое удивительное лето..."
("Белая Гвардия")
Marginal summer' s leading the wiggy stream -
I feel tomato juice on my skin
touching the buzzing string.
Impossible to the clowns of Taste,
invisible to the goddess of Waste,
invoked against -
Who are you, echoing in the rocks,
calm as a heavy raindrop,
too free to hurry,
too loving yourself to stop?
Fingers never complete the needle's path.
Ice and honey; who needs the middle part?
