Joseph Brodsky: I'm sitting at the window

I have always insisted that the fate -
game. What why do we fish, once there is caviar.
What will win the Gothic style, as a school,
as the ability to hang around, avoiding the injection.
I sit by the window. Outside, aspen.
I loved the few. However, -. Much

I thought that the forest - only a portion of logs
. That why all virgin again have knee.
What, tired of the dust raised eyelid,
Russian eyes rest on the Estonian spire.
I sit by the window. I washed the dishes.
I was happy here, and I will not.

I wrote that in light bulb - sex horror
. That love is an act devoid of the verb.
What Euclid did not know that, tapers,
thing becomes not zero, but Chronos.
I sit by the window. I remember the youth.
I smile at times, sometimes otplyunus.

I said that the list destroys kidney.
And that seed fallen down in bad soil,
It does not escape; that meadow to meadow
is an example of masturbation, in Nature this.
I sit at the window, hugging her knees,
society own ponderous shadows.

My song was devoid of motive,
but it does not sing the chorus. No wonder,
that reward me for such
speech his feet nobody puts on his shoulders.
I sit by the window in the dark; How soon,
the sea thunders over undulating curtain.

Second-class citizen of the era, proudly
I admit the goods second-class
their best thoughts and days coming
I give them as experience in dealing with suffocation.
I'm sitting in the dark. And it is no worse than
in the room than the darkness outside.





5 of philosophical poems of Joseph Brodsky
The poem "Love" Joseph Brodsky: the history of a true passion

via adme.ru/svoboda-kultura/stihotvorenie-lyubov-iosifa-brodskogo-istoriya-istinnoj-strasti-1170010/