February.  Get out the ink and weep! Sob in February, sob and sing While the wet snow rumbles in the street And burns with the black spring.   Take a cab. For a coin Be carried through church bells, the chirp of tyres To a place where the torrential rain Is louder still than ink or tears   Where, like charred pears A … Continue reading ‘February’ by Boris Pasternak translated by Sasha Dugdale