Although I am losing my Soviet citizenship, I do not cease to be a Russian poet.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
My poems getting published in Russia doesn't make me feel in any fashion, to tell you the truth. I'm not trying to be coy, but it doesn't tickle my ego.
I can say without affectation that I belong to the Russian convict world no less than I do to Russian literature. I got my education there, and it will last forever.
I belong to Russian literature, but I am an American citizen, and I think it's the best possible combination.
I am also one of those persons who were transformed, who grew out of the Soviet system and transformed myself into the new Russia.
I'm eternally grateful to fate and the citizens of Russia that they've trusted me to be the head of the Russian government.
I'm very inspired by the artfulness and soulfulness of the Russian people.
I belong to the Russian language. As to the state, from my point of view, the measure of a writer's patriotism is not oaths from a high platform, but how he writes in the language of the people among whom he lives.
There is a very definite Russian heart in me; that never dies. I think you're born and you live your life with it and you die with it. I'm very much an American - my books tend to be about American things, but inside there's that sort of tortured, long-suffering, aching, constantly analysing Russian soul underneath the happy American exterior.
In days of doubt, in days of dreary musings on my country's fate, you alone are my comfort and support, oh great, powerful, righteous, and free Russian language!
I am neither an Occidental writer nor a Russian writer. I am an accidental writer.