By Joseph Brodsky

The English Poetic Translations by Anna Polibina-Polansky

* * *

In order to spatter the grief due,

With hollow, light-headed, sweet words,

The life of a poet - I'm leading.

Of course, this strange life may not hurt.

In order, to see, at a window,

Some face, after shouts "farewell"...

No matter that smiles are nt sweet so, -

I'm eager, my fortune to tell.

Just at the dawn of the existence,

Of movements, with God all at sight,

I'll put clear words at my list brief -

Like seals, I'll but sounds so bright.

* * * To E.K.

I drank some fizz. The tower did face

The Byelorussian railway station shouting.

I thought where I should hang out, at the haze.

The swelling leaves were showing their sprouts green.

The throat of the subway, throwing up,

Let its meat out, like muttons free their cubs.

There was no need, those hasty ants, to chase.

The back of Gorky, of cast-iron dim,

Was lurking all about: were motors, wailing.

And no attention, so, was paid to him.

So taxi got by. Georgians sold their daily

Red roses. Spirits, remedied did spread

There smells from under some gates. So unsaid

Was my poor state. Strange, I was to myself

And to all four directions from the hell,

All plausible ways off. The beauty left.

She took no thoughts along, nor secret thefts.

So tears were not to catch up with her eyes.

To lurk, all lights and wheels were giving tries:

They moved by circles, all of no surprise.

Tr. 2010