The Nacreous Oughts

21 April 2008

All I ever tried to keep, these
last starved years have swiped, except
one tale, one blazing zigzag streak
hung in the nightly star-array.

The rest's scattered ash, become
a resumé...still I must dream:
a box, its precious contents sealed
crosswise with a burgundy ribbon.

--Aleksandr Blok (my tr.)

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