Looking Glass by R.S. Thomas

 There is a game I play
 with a mirror, approaching
 it when I am not there,
 as though to take by surprise.
 
 the self that is my familiar. It
 is in vain. Like one eternally
 in ambush, fast or slow
 as I may raise my head, it raises
 
 its own, catching me in the act,
 disarming me by acquaintance,
 looking full into my face as often
 as I try looking at it askance.
 
 
 by R. S. Thomas
 from Experimenting with an Amen (1986) 

‘Look, Outside My Window The Vine Is Spreading So Fast…’ by Afanasy Fet

Look, outside my window the vine is spreading so fast it

almost blocks out the light. Dark, picturesque green now

covers up half of the panes. And amidst the foliage a bunch of

seemingly carefully-placed grapes has started to turn

yellow… Hands off, sweetest! Why this rage for destruction?

If one plump little white hand should be seen to steal

into the yard for a bunch of grapes, the neighbours will waste no

time in declaring: she must have been in his room.

 

by Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет (Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet)

a.k.a. Шеншин (Shenshin)

(1847)

translated by Robert Chandler