poems back artist cataloque
,It's the Leningrad late May night -
It's the season of shadows and phantoms,
It's the season of horsemen in cocked hats,
And gilden royal carriges.
It's a real fairy season.
When magic shimmer of my dreams
Is breaking thru the curtained window
To meet the dreams of the lonely strangers,
In the whitish midnight the Fontanka water
Is becoming viscid butter.
I saw so often
The humpbacked nobilities houses
Sprawl down at the stone pavements.
And sink their thin snake - like feet
Into some twilight liquid
And slightly trouble its dense skin.
page 25