Petersburg novel (poem in three parts)

The Millionnaya streetcar rattled,
and heard him a mile away
past day in thick columns,
sighing lightly, утихал.

dusk. In the hero's room
the stove cracked and the light turned gray,
silently in the mirror raw
the hero looked more closely.

My life is passing, he thought,
darkens the light, light gray,
you find pain, you find humor,
what have you become for so many years.

Chapter 25

Creeping light on long glasses,
from wet walls to my feet gliding,
about, whose eyes look at you like that,
probably, mirror eyes.

He thought - looks random
guesses of creepy evenings,
my life passes, sadder
you will not say words, you will not say words.

Now you feel, how odd
understand, what is the essence of your fate
and the essence of the incoherent novel
passes life tell you.

And the night moves the corridors
and says loudly - do not believe,
into the empty room of the hero
pushing the door open.

And arises on the doorstep
alien, monument, wreath
at the end of love, at the end of the road,
silent time messenger.

Chapter 26

And again the familiar lane
whitewashed newspaper scraps,
ends of memorized walks,
talk about homeland, neighbour,

talk about something recent,
beloved these days,
talk about something short,
whispers about death,

Note, mind you - the same thing
we speak so many years,
the midnight passerby is running,
hurries after time after,

lit window, and you all cry
and click on the black glass,
whom do you judge, what do you pay,
the river splashes on the corner.

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Joseph Brodsky
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