I am the last Napoleonic soldier. It’s almost two hundred years later and I am still retreating from Moscow. The road is lined with white birch trees and the mud comes up to my knees. The one-eyed woman wants to sell me a chicken, and I don’t even have any clothes on. …
Charles Simic
In my great grandmother's time, …
With only his dim lantern …
Great are the Hittites. …
On the first page of my dreambook …
How much death works, …
This strange thing must have crept …
You must come to them sideways …
Shoes, secret face of my inner life: …
Grandma laughing on her deathbed. …
I only have a measly ant …
They’re waiting to be murdered, …
They explained to me the bloody bandages …
I grew up bent over …
In his fear of solitude, he made us. …
It hangs from heaven to earth. …
Your friend has died, with whom …
There was a melon fresh from the garden …
One day, chasing my tail here and there, …
The obvious is difficult …
The brightly-painted horse …
A small wheel …