Author: Vladislav Nekliaev

Come to me with the full moon, Tell me a word or two, All the garden will be soon Sprinkled […]

Desine, Paulle, meum lacrimis urgere sepulcrum: nempe tuas lacrimas litora surda bibent. Propertius, IV.11 Don’t cry for me, for only […]

Somewhere, suspended in facetless space, The vine is spiralling, shown in the distance, with loosened hair: The farther the eye […]

I. You liked your scrolls? — Here they are. The manuscript of your book? — Here it is. Your wine […]

When you entered the workshop, I was already here. How many statues, and torsos, and heads! Like remains of the […]

Troubled slumbering of things, the curtain blown aside By the gush of the salty wind, the advent of the tide […]

Eupatius thought: “Give him a thousand horses, A thousand bridles of eloquent gold. Wash his feet, feed him well, show […]

for every windי’s emotionless blast Brings shreds of feathers with their dance of loss Rotating leaves of faded rainbow-trees And […]

Today your things depart. Your faience cup Fell off the table at sunrise and cracked. Your old grey dog did […]

The air heaving like a wounded fish, Breathing through its purplish sandy gills, Letting in the salty gale, fluttering its […]