1983

The first day of odd-numbered years. bells
released into the air balloon of a balloon,
compiled by rough up there,
three hundred years as a stripped naked
local statues. I lay in the empty, raw,
yellow room, pouring a Bertani.
This thing, basking in my mouth,
He says in the end: “Close the
window”. Here is another
combination of numbers did not open the door;
plus the odd numbers and pleasant heart,
they are mediocre; few places on
them his fortune, their lack of, his
purse; and putting - stand what got…
Seagull in the mist swirls Contrary hour
arrow, Unlike the carousel.

1983

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Joseph Brodsky
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