I Am Married And Happy. My Only

Cabbage Soup And Barley. They're Russia's National Food. Both Excellent In Their Way, But A Shade Monotonous.

I Have Outlasted All Desire, My Dreams And I Have Grown Apart; My Grief Alone Is Left Entire, The Gleamings Of An Empty Heart. The Storms Of Ruthless Dispensation Have Struck My Flowery Garland Numb, I Live In Lonely Desolation And Wonder When My End Will Come. Thus On A Naked Tree-limb, Blasted By Tardy Winter's Whistling Chill, A Single Leaf Which Has Outlasted Its Season Will Be Trembling Still.

Ecstasy Is A Glass Full Of Tea And A Piece Of Sugar In The Mouth.

Love Passed, The Muse Appeared, The Weather Of Mind Got Clarity New-found; Now Free, I Once More Weave Together Emotion, Thought, And Magic Sound.

Somewhere Between Obsession And Compulsion Is Impulse.