The kind of poem I produced in those days was hardly anything more than a sign I made of being alive, of passing or having passed, or hoping to pass, through certain intense human emotions. It was a phenomenon of orientation rather than of art, thus comparable to stripes of paint on a roadside rock or to a pillared heap of stones marking a mountain trail.
In this reflection, Nabokov expresses that the poems he created during a certain period served more as markers of his existence than as artistic expressions. They reflected his experiences with strong human emotions, depicting a sense of being alive and navigating through life.
He likens his poetry to simple indicators, such as painted stripes on a rock or stacked stones along a path, emphasizing that these works were more about orientation in his life than about artistic merit. This suggests a focus on personal significance over conventional beauty in his poetic output.
