Anna Akhmatova

Последний тост Я пью за разорённый дом, За злую жизнь мою, За одиночество вдвоём, И за тебя я пью,— За ложь меня предавш...

Jenny Wade

During the unusually hot Parisian summer of 1924, 38-year-old Vladislav Khodasevich—regarded by Nabokov as the finest Russian poet since Blok—was suffering from an identity crisis. One of 3 million exiled from Soviet Rus...

B. Kold

For immediate release: Sensitive Skin is publishing a series of bilingual translations of great poets. The aim of the series, which is called “Maximum Access,” is to bring English-speaking readers as close as possible t...

Jenny Wade

Let us praise, brothers, freedom’s twilight, The great diminishing year! A heavy forest of nets is lowered Into the turbulent waters of night. You are ascending in desolate years, Oh sun, judge, people. Let us prai...