(Poems to Akhmatova)
Competitions scab
As we have not mastered kinship.
And so we just shared:
yours – Petersburg, my – Moscow.
Blissfully and unselfishly
My genius listened to your.
On each of your handwritten sigh
Breath billowed shaft.
But my pride shaft Polish –
As he fell! – With hot zlatozarnyh
My poems – as a volunteer
To you flocked to the tent…
Reaches dissolved in vacuum ester
My lyrical flattery?
And I'm inconsolable,
What female lyre
one, I thrust a legion.
