Poems by Boris Pasternak
Here will be echoes in the mountains...
... Wound on the heights: though some were trying ...
Definition of Poetry
... It's a night that turns green leaves to ice, ...
Your Picture
... Lights, and air with the sweet sweat of fresh waltzes laced ...
Swifts (2)
... see, see, how the earths receding! ...
On Early Trains
... And through the forest darkness drifted forth ...
It's spring, I leave a street where poplars...
... It's spring, I leave a street where poplars are astonished, ...
Nostalgia
... They swayed and shivered, rubbing shoulders, ...
Music
... Life of the streets, fate of the lonely&hellip ...
The patient watches
... Brace, rage, and fall, collapsing senselessly ...
Wet Paint
... All marked with stains of calves and cheeks ...
The Earth
... and our evenings are farewell documents, ...
On The Steamer
... A smell of paint mixed with the galley smells, ...
To Anna Akhmatova
... You cant leave town though its spring, ...
The Patient's Sweater
... it seemed That Christmas itself also sweated and snored ...
Improvisation
... And screeching black beaks in their savage attack, ...
