Yana Djin: The Dead Don’t Die | The Poetry of Dmitry Melnikoff
And they lie at the edge of light alone
at the place where snow never hits
Kahlo embraces Diego’s barebone
and they emanate heat.
April 3, 2021 · Leave a comment
Marina Tsvetaeva: Thank God for the Rich
For their root, putrid and loose,
For their weeping-wound from the cradle,
For their perplexing habit of taking
More from my pocket into their pocket.
January 22, 2021 · 2 Comments
Anna Akhmatova: I am not one of those who left the land
I am not one of those who left the land
to the mercy of its enemies.
Their flattery leaves me cold.
My songs are not for them to praise.
October 19, 2018 · Leave a comment
