sanat tarihi profesörü bir baba ile piyanist bir annenin çocuğudur. eserleri stalin ve bolşevik rejimi tarafından hiç hoş karşılanmamış ve hayatının çoğunluğu sovyetler birliği dışında sürgünde geçmiştir.
--spoiler--
After a night of insomnia, the body gets weaker,
Becomes dear, but not yours or anybodys to own.
Just like a seraph, you walk, smiling to people,
And in slow veins, arrows continue to moan.
After insomnia, arms lose their strength and droop down,
You become equally oblivious to friends and foes.
A whole rainbow appears in each unexpected sound,
And it smells of Florence during wintry frost.
Lips shine sweetly and shadows appear golden and light
Next to the sunken eyes. The dim evening skies
Have illuminated this image, - and from the dark night,
Only one thing grows darker and darker - our eyes.
