I was washing outside in the darkness,the sky burning with rough stars,and the starlight, salt on an axe-blade.The cold overflows the barrel.The gate's locked,the land's grim as its conscience.I don't think they'll find the new weaving,finer than truth, anywhere.Star-salt is melting in the barrel,icy water is blackening,death's growing purer, misfortune saltier,the earth's moving nearer to truth and to dread.
IA
Author
Innokenty Annensky
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Author Summary
About Innokenty Annensky on QuoteMust
Innokenty Annensky currently has 1 indexed quotes and 1 linked works on QuoteMust. This page is the canonical destination for that author archive.
Works
Books and titles linked to this author
The Silver Age of Russian Culture: An Anthology
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