About the Author

From the book Kliazma and Yauza
From the book The Wild Rose
From the book Tristan and Isolde
From the book Old Songs
From the book Gates. Windows. Arches
From the book Stanzas in the Manner of Alexander Pope
From the book Stellae and Inscriptions
From the book The Iambic Verses
The Chinese Travelogue
From An Unfinished Book
From the book The Evening Song
From the book Elegies
From the book The Beginning of a Book  
From the book The Beginning of a Book

Like a mountain dove in cleft stone
Like a city swallow under the eaves –
Which spend all day bustling, flying
Then fall into a slumber
So profound,
It’s as if they were not yet born –

So you too, my heart,
Nestling in hurt offense
Sated, warm, comforted
Sleep... slumber...
Don’t listen to anyone:

Talk, go on then, talk,
Talk, you don’t know anything:
If you knew, you’d be silent,
As I am, as I have been since
The great Flood,
Since Noah’s vineyard.

Larissa Volokhonsky and Emily Grosholz
To His Holiness John Paul II
To His Holiness John Paul II
2.The Nothing
To His Holiness John Paul II
3.Sant Alessio. Roma
A Letter
Portrait of the Artist in a Middle-Age
The Subway. Moscow
The Angel of Rheims
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