Vladimir Nabokov

St. Petersburg, Russia

"O

ne night between sunset and river
On the old bridge we stood, you and I.
Will you ever forget it, I queried,
- That particular swift that went by?
And you answered, so earnestly: Never!
And what sobs made us suddenly shiver,
What a cry life emitted in flight!
Till we die, till tomorrow, for ever,
You and I on the old bridge one night.”

"I

“was weeping again, drunk on the impossible past.”

“I

looked and looked at her, and I knew, as clearly as I know that I will die,
that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth.
She was only the dead-leaf echo...from long ago - but I loved her,
pale and polluted and big with another man's child.
She could fade and wither - I didn't care.
I would still go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of her face.”

"A

cluster of stars palely glowed above us, between the silhouettes of long thin leaves; that vibrant sky seemed as naked as she was under her light frock.

“M

ind you, sometimes the angels smoke, hiding it with their sleeves,
and when the archangel comes,
they throw the cigarettes away:
that’s when you get shooting stars.”

"T

“he lost glove is happy.”