Arseny Tarkovsky, "Den' Poezii", 1978.
Go catch them in the leisure hour
In rain or sun net - and be rich!
I catch them in my word net...which
Is why they're very hard to capture
And all too often they flit past you
So once more you've an empty net,
No grass or petal in it yet.
But my wish is that when it's chilly
I still may see a flowering lily,
That every moment of delight
Should stay, not vanish from my sight.
That fair June days and nights star-sprangled
In my fair net of words entangled
Should gladden with their warmth sublime
The very dead of wintertime;
That every one now seen or seeing,
Now singing songs of joy or weeping,
All who tomorrow shall be gone
Should in my poetry live on.
When the moon's disk is fading high and lonely,
With halting breath, the cold air on my face,
I enter fearfully, up to my ankles only.
I bend when I have barely moved a pace
To touch the surface with my fingers lightly.
It is so smooth, it does not move or race.
Are eyes pursuing me, or are they not,
As I forsake the place where I was staying
Of bygone days? And sparkling with bright dots
Cold streams - the future, round my fingers playing.
4) "Selected Poetry and Prose" ("Stikhi i Proza"),
- Moscow, Terra, 1992. This volume includes poetry and authobiographical
prose: reminiscences about famous Russian poet Arseny Tarkovsky who died
in 1989 and whom Larissa Miller had known for 20 years; "Childhood in Post-War
Moscow", "Home Address" and two chapters about her mother, a journalist,
who died in 1983, and about her father, also a journalist, who was killed
in the War in 1942. Excerpts from the book have been published in English
translation in "Glas" (#3, "Women's View", 1992; #6, "Jews and Strangers",
1993) and in "Moscow Guardian" (#37, 10 October, 1992). - See Attachments
"Larissa Miller's beautiful memoir, "Childhood in Post-War Moscow", shines through a translation...".
Richard Eder, "Los Angeles Times", November 26, 1992;
Helen Elliott, "Sidney Morning Herald", Australia, April 17, 1993;
Natasha Singer, "Forward", February 11, 1994.
The howl of a strange land's wind.
The crack in a strange land's soil.
Which God made it our precept
To make other nations' troubles our own
And to live as guests of mankind
Far from our native land?
But now these sleepy rivers
Are dearer to me than my "native" streams.
And if I suffer insults,
My pain has nothing to do with the land of David.
Some from Rostov, some from Toulon,
We are the crowds of Babylon,
Long speaking different languages.
There is no end to our pilgrimage.
Only extermination brought us together
Into a long trail of smoke.
But winds blow eternally,
All smoke scattering.
Translated by Anthony Astrachan and Regina Kazakova.
The essay that gave the name to the book looks at the enigma of Poetry which Lorca called "the riddle of Sphinx waiting for Oedipus to solve it".
6) "Poetry and about Poetry" ("Stikhi i o Stikhakh), - Moscow, Glas, 1996. - A collection of new poems written in 1993-96, and of essays: on the paradoxes of Vladimir Nabokov's poetry, comparative analysis of the poetry of Georgy Ivanov, Vyacheslav Khodasevich and Arseny Tarkovsky, etc.
"Baratynski described poetry as "a full awareness of a given moment". Obviously the more such moments we have, THE HIGHER IS THE QUALITY OF LIFE. Unfortunately, other values prevail in the world. But it is this awareness that fully reveals the quality of life, and this awareness comes when you decide to break away from the accepted standards and you begin to live by your own clock -- a clock with slow-moving hands.
Larissa Miller have contributed numerous articles to "Literaturnaya Gazeta" and other periodicals about present-day problems of literary and cultural life in Russia.
Things that cannot be believed.
Are there scales with which to measure
Evil, good, truth and deceit?
Some are fearless when in prison.
Blue unfathomed vault - the sky.
Black holes cannot just be mended.
Little one, my son, my flesh,
From the butchers' drunken riots,
Please forgive me, love, forgive me -
Anxious visions burn my soul.