Anna Halberstadt

*** И от любви остаётся горстка пепла, не больше напёрстка. Нет, не страшно стало душе быть нелюбимой уже. Вот тебе рукави...

Bernard Meisler

Anton Yakovlev in conversation with Bernard Meisler. Welcome to season 2 of the Sensitive Skin magazine podcast! We discuss Anton's growing up in Moscow, during the final years of the Soviet Union, his emigration to t...

Naum Korzhavin

Naum Korzhavin was born in the Ukraine in 1925 and as a child witnessed the horrors of collectivization: “I remember the Kiev of 1933. People died right in the streets. . . We survived not only hunger. We got used to think...

Valery Oisteanu

Yevgeny Yevtushenko has Left the Planet On a quiet Saturday in Tulsa, Oklahoma A Russian poet dies, smiling in his dream All his life he waited for springtime But spring never arrived, only sounds The sound of wind w...

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...

Karina McCorkle

А следующий раз — глухонемая Приду на свет, где всем свой стих дарю, свой слух дарю. Ведь всё равно — что говорят — не пон...

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...