A kiss on the forehead—erases misery. …
Marina Tsvetaeva
I am happy living simply: …
Our sweet companions—sharing your bunk and your bed …
Where does such tenderness come from? …
Hell, my ardent sisters, be assured, …
How is your life with that other one? …
Your name is a—bird in my hand, …
From my hands—take this city not made by hands, …
Black mountain …
Fair enough: you people have eaten me, …