Velimir Khlebnikov (1885 - 1922 / Russia)

Rus', you are but a kiss in the frost!
The midnight roads are blueing.
Lips joined in a blue lightning bolt,
Clasped, he and she are blueing.
Sometimes at night lightning would spark
From the caress of two mouths.
And a bluing, languished lightning bolt
Would swiftly outline two coats.
And the night would shine intelligent and dark.