Take the "Nevsky Almanac".
He is sweet and prose, and in verse:
You will find here the Field,
Wielkopolska, Khvostov;
Knyazhevich, your distant relatives,
Decorated as this book;
But you will not find me:
My poems slipped into oblivion.
That the glory of the world?.. smoke and ashes!
Brother, your heart is dearer to me!..
But, it seems, I find it hard too
Get in the almanac.
