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(sketch)

Wednesday and Thursday came,
It stands in the corner of mimosa fireworks,
and scattered on the table column
my elegies, rolled up in rolls.

Runs the river before the eyes of time,
fingers and the wind starts to crown,
and oshuyu already visible
no more, than the right hand, days.

A cold March seizes forest.
Candle on the wall watching with interest.
And stool merges with bed.
And the city is punctured eye of snowstorm.

April 1965

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Joseph Brodsky
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