memory T. B.


Until wilted flowers and ribbon
It has not yet passed through the lime summer,
as long as black and is free Gypsies,
for so long, the memory
my, as if heeding her call,
pull it, probably, in winter, –


accept from me this rhyme-mite,
if that goes through the oblivion,
That's because to go with thee,,
ahead of me Stop;
and it will then be, friend,
your last me a favor.


I never thought to see so many
roses; it is - the duty, percent, default
summer to, who undoubtedly should
he would put them in the fields, but he lived
just before flowering, and their left
rein in the interpretation of the rules.


That they are here and sleep in bulk.
For nature is honest and in a small,
if it comes to pain
our; but, not in our will
these motifs are called by good;
death - is, what happens to the other.


Death - is, what happens to the other.
Even let each goddess
there are favorites in the discharge of death,
know exactly, that does not have them
at Persephone; and ripples gyri
the trust, whose marriage is stable.


All this is to remember, while there is strength,
while all this is fresh and damp,
until your shell, - rather,
parting with it for me sick,
than parting with your soul,
of which over a longer


joy God - which after,
whether it be Muhammad, Christ you,
the word itself is elected whom you
earlier, when life - take care
the undoubted good things to come –
until the moisture vessel vulnerable.


Since that let me in this world
say about her, shell, of death,
about that, What happened that night in Finnish
Gulf and became the envy of sphinxes
mystery - for your shuttle at all
sank, but remained near.


It is unlikely that you knew about it then,
boat and can not be the subject of
vigil soul, whose right
weight worries, inaccessible to the eye,
worth it just to leave the body;
hardly knew you, just eh I wanted


secret torment us, whose complexity or
aggravate the suffering (for
rise to more important separation separation);
or it facilitates flour
Detective in mental Funds;
even let you try for the sake of


these last, then all the same
majority of them, still it seems,
that for them, whose eyes are weeping
you wished to save, task
unsolvable; and shine on Pearl
their dots - the first tears.


Gulls do not ask, and the clouds disappeared.
What would we have been able to see, trying to
to look at it all the bird's eye?
How do you wallow near
the boat, not heeding their cries sharp,
lying in so small and so great


Distance from shuttle. just
and in a dream; but that, what
you do not cling, - victory appeared:
for suffering in a dream, we can
time to wake up, and in a trembling body
one`s fingers at the edge of the bed.


Gulls do not ask, and there is no sense
in the hubbub of waves. there are only
clouds - but the wind scatters.
For death has always witness –
he is also a victim. And in this new
Dual role you were ready.


However, and as, for any spread
warehouses soul, in the question
"What was the?"Clue means.
suicide? heart break
too cold water Gulf?
Life allows you to put "or".


This particle is not handicap
imagination, but simply a form of
two variants of identity, selection
between which - if dropped –
transforming immobility clean
in a flow of two parallel wavy.


This particle - a nightmare prophets –
way to protect against all the accusations
therein, I greedily rummaging in a shroud,
therein, I "ill of the dead" - that is,
Suicide is a sin and a veto;
and I believe it is for you.


For, including this case,
All are you a Christian best,
than I. AND, may be, points
of Turkish singers, whose line
you sang to me, and generally Islam,
it is not no sin, our shame.


Not really know. But in every faith
there is a trait, that at least
combines it with other:
do not ban, and that, what
people were at the bottom, in life,
full sickles and crosses homeland.


So you can go without fear:
the robe of Christ turban il Allah,
United gazelle with pilaf
blooming or booths - word,
in two versions of the doors of Eden
wide open, Despite the faith.


That is clad in any dress
God will accept you in their embrace,
and not into love here it is the Father:
therein, what, violating a rather general
vague covenant, you are different, detailed,
I kept firmly: you were good.


This is any more accounts:
here on earth, and even in mountain too.
Time is one everywhere. years
Life is more important everywhere, than water,
rails, loop or opening a vein;
all these things almost instantly.


So your sin, saying in effect,
is - it refers to the minute,
when you last took a sip of air,
in the lungs which lie on the waters
and remained, swaying rhythmically.
And your virtue, probably,


this minute and the wind whistling
grow, as I have been your age
grew, for the day, when I
data lines, almost sobbing,
connect, has exceeded
difference numbers sputtered in stone.


Black ribbon Gypsies with the wind.
Strange you leave us in this
place, under a pile of flowers, in grave,
here, where people are, how to live:
in their eternal darkness, within the boundaries;
all the difference in the quietness and birds.


Now the country, when you are in the vale
best, than our, we cry. It li
vera weak, whether the nerves are weak:
pity more appropriate the Lord of Glory
in the world, where souls live only in the body.
cry, like really


something could stay alive.
For, when the two parted,
then, before opening the gate,
each takes the other something
in memory of, their age was lived through:
body - invisibility; soul, may be,


vision and hearing. That's why cry,
hope that the shallow hide,
if you hear me and see,
but the words do not come out to me:
for the soul, that gained a lot,
it did not take, so as not to offend God.


cry. Rather, writing, that tears
pouring, that the trembling lips, that rose
wither, the smell of drugs and turf
harsh. Write about things, indisputably,
you up to a certain death,, so
cry for the, that she does not cry.


Did you know about the death of more than
than we? Only the pain. pain is
It teaches us not to death, but life. Only
that you knew, that I myself. So many
It was aware of the death of you,
as the marriage learn bride


can - not about love: o brake.
Not on the hot passions, the Slak
these passions, of cold, poignantly
slag - in short, this duty
lifetime, of winters, years.
So now, in those black belts,


you as a bride. You, never known
marriage during lifetime, of our life
away leaving, turfy,
death - a marriage, This is a wedding in black,
those ties, that every year
only stronger, if there is no divorce.


hear, Persephone's voice again?
Subtle in her hand curled hair
of your life, dissected park.
Persephone then sings over the spinning wheel
song about eternal fidelity to her husband;
just tune out and floats.


We will remember you. We will not
remember you. Because people
characterized by a craving for visible objects
or to subjects such imaginary,
that can not afford heart netyam.
AND, It is neither the, nor it,


you remain smear, sketch,
name, alien by his own namesake
and do not throw the shadow of death
even to them. What to do with those,
tel anyone, what exactly, much
more? But while these two syllables –


Tanya - still means a body
only your, not letting the cause
reason anesthesia, they
his lips parting, name
I subjected your publicity
as a last caress for the body.


Name your part with throat
strangled. Using continue verb,
created by death, so we are missing
We did not notice, who knows, even
I myself start except perhaps the,
if you "died" and was named.


If I can live, healthy
as much with this word I live
years old, how much you have lived in the world,
remember: in two thousand and one summer,
the risk of being inscribed in the blasphemers,
state asks, To extend calendar.


So, have been unable to tread the waters,
every year you start to become,
shoe track on the waters of melting,
all pointlessness; and - myself when I
not reaching for that date,
Drought Dvina tuda, where are you going


first went, to the country, where we all
soul only, incorporeal, not we,
that is, where all - wise, assholes, –
all for one, we face, how Turks, –
hardly syschu you in those quarters,
meeting with you excuse whom.


Can, for the better. What would you say
could you I? About our wedding,
birth, stains, trek through pipes
copper, flame, other people's lips;
i.e, with some unparalleled zeal
we are working on your oblivion.


Should I? Hardly. Not worth the lines.
As the two parting lines at,
crossing, goodbye. Hardly
we meet again, whether it be paradise if, hell you.
These two types of life after death
but a continuation of the ideas of Euclid.


Sleep well. You're better off had, and that
Death is always a sign of,
inability to sign, during his lifetime,
the worst goodbye. Then that is not down
come down. However, Down stilts –
nesvydanya to the garden, Whether in Hell.


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Joseph Brodsky
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