[To the cursed and cursory memory of Tovarishch Strelokovian Pivovarnya]
Love . . . beauty . . . poetry . . . the Party deemed these, three, attacks
upon the Soviet State and the "Workers' Paradise":
thus we should not feel crushing shock or even mild surprise
to hear the Party's feral frenzy and ferocity
stirred up the verses and that long novel of Paternak's,
and its effect upon your smarmy equanimity---
dismal, cold, steel-gray color of your smug bureaucracy.