In Petrovsky Park

by Vladislav Khodasevich 1886-1939 He hung without swaying Thin belt on branch’s bend. His hat – a black remainder Marred freshly combed sand. Left palm pierced by the nails, Of still yet stiffened hand. The sun ascended slowly For noon its horses set, He faced the morning Helios In somber tet-a-tet. The man with frozenContinue reading “In Petrovsky Park”