Petersburg novel (poem in three parts)

Chapter 7

Between Pestel and Mayakovskaya
there is a six-story house.
Once a young Merezhkovsky
and Gippius lived in it

two years of this century.
Now on the third floor
the hero lives, and time twirls
his dial in his soul.

When in Moscow stuck in a buttonhole
and in the squares an awkward sense
half a century bent
Lubyanka stone flower,

and Petersburg is the middle of the century,
admiralty bush
sent greetings, with Dzerzhinsky moved out
almost to Liteiny bridge,

and by pea trolley
will not bring already to fate.
Casting, beige fortress,
entrance fourth kgb.

Chapters 8 – 9

Window bound along the sky,
silence between steps,
iron net spans
concrete step is strong.

Between your secrets, between narrow holes
on your faces, gentlemen,
(from time to time, my sweet, my dear,
I left your heaven), sometimes

as if the wings of Daedalus
everybody waving your voices,
at times I left,
my dear, your heaven,

already Russian partiality
on your hard business –
thank you, state security,
hula.

On these stairs between the rooms,
enduring his century,
oh just remember, just remember
not these rooms - yourself.

But there is awkward nature,
your great feed,
your houses, like a tower,
and a servant walks in the servants.

Not that scares me, at midnight,
the hero will be taken away at midnight,
that the bastard rules the world, bastard.
But life goes to the wrong court,

in longing, in dismay, into rockets,
repair small springs
and leaves a man
on a new street a stranger.

I can not more. In the novel
not me, and the city is my hero,
so the man in the mirror frame
standing in the evening

and sets the collar crumpled,
glides palm along gray hair
and goes to a small theater,
where will one be again.

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Joseph Brodsky
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