If anything sing, the change of the wind…

If anything sing, the change of the wind,
the west to the east, when a frozen twig
moves to the left, creaking of reluctance,
and your cough is flying over the plains to forests Dakota.
At noon, you can raise his rifle and fire at the, that field
it seems to hare, providing pool
extending between huddling completely with tempo
The writer and the pen, what
leaves traces. Sometimes the head with his hand
merge, without becoming a string,
but under his own voice, perekatыvayuschyysya bound,
substituting ear, as part of a centaur.

1975 – 1976

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Joseph Brodsky
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