Стихотворения

I don’t know, what will become of me,
But it's frightening to look ahead.
But it's so frightening, that I must all alone
Traverse this entire path unknown.

In an attempt to escape these thoughts she turns to earlier memories of childhood “On the ship” or tries to lose herself among the painted beauties in the Hermitage Museum where:

I pray for my poor soul
And press my lips to the Madonna.

The religious symbolism, the churches and the bells are one refuge for her and recurring Leitmotivs in her work. She resigns herself to the loss of her loved one and decides to abandon the search for “buried treasure.” Her decision grants peace and sleep, and her resolution is firm but shortlived.

The second notebook is one of transition from Petrograd to Berlin from the fall of 1921 to the winter and end of 1922. Once again Gumilev’s death occupies a prominent place at the beginning of the book, but he is soon replaced by Vaginov, who has stolen the poet’s heart. Vera’s departure from Russia and journey to Riga and then on to Berlin give rise to another major theme of her poetry-her memories of Petrograd, the city of white, so different from the black asphalt streets and daily reality of Berlin. The holiday season of 1921 is particularly painful as she recalls earlier Christmases in Russia. The day in Germany carries none of the happiness of childhood and has almost passed unnoticed.

I probably lost my heart
In the twilight at Warsaw Station
And now I know nothing
And for everyone today is Christmas.

On New Year’s Eve she takes to her room and alone in bed she fantasizes of a lover, who is not there.

Throughout these poems there is a constancy and faithfulness this the motherland. In her poem “On Sunday” she clearly expresses this devotion motivated by the Sunday church bells which recall the sights and sounds of her beloved Petersburg.

I'm faithful to you even in a foreign land
My black-earthed, native Rus,
And your patterned, motley colored lines
I’ll carefully touch with my verses.

Her enthusiasm for Russia and renewed faith in her poetry were closely connected with her encounter with Andrej Belyj, the pseudonym of Boris Nikolaevic Bugaev. Several poems are dedicated to B.N.B. and others can be readily identified with him. Here again, however, her youthful desires for a romance are shattered under the harsh reality of the middle aged poet. While Belyj undoubtedly promoted the publishing of her poems and reviews, his interest in her romantically never approached her all encompassing love.

If only I needn’t think and believe,
That there’s no goal and nothing to live for.
And on my knees I pray to God
To give my songs the strength to bring back
Your love and meek glance!
And the road shall become joyful again!

One can trace the relationship from Berlin to Zossen, where Belyj lived during May and June of 1922, to Swinemunde where both would join the Russian community in this resort town. In a poem entitled “The 27th of October” (Belyj’s birthday was October 14 in the Old Style, October 27 on the New Style calendar) the poet expresses a willingness to sell anything, give anything to gain the affections of his love.

And on your holiday all alone
I’ll lie down on my bed
And not from sweet wine,
Shall I know the bitter intoxication.
But fervently I’ll pray to God.
He can help me,
And I believe — you’ll dream of me
My love this night.

By year’s end Vera cries in her own room trying to find the strength to survive.

I want to learn a simple wisdom,
How to love not one, but many,
And without demanding, to give
Without jealousy, doubts and worry.