And the clock creaked,
and clanged behind my deadbolt,
I quickly turned around and froze:
everything in the room, to whom to lock?
Father silently lowered the curtain,
now you can’t trust the deadbolts.

I backed up, and the window was five.
The cat jumped into the lighted spot.
Under the ceiling, where the haze accumulated,
the blinded needle sparkled.
I nearly screamed in horror,
among the magazines my father was sticking out.

Will anyone come between us!
Will something out of sight,
tree-like in dust.
My mouth couldn’t be squeezed,
chalk appeared on the wall-paper,
from horror, I was all numb.

The trees in our room grew!
reaching the ground with branches
and also taking out the ceiling,
shaking the dust out of the corner,
but their roots in our eyes curled,
the peaks in the center of the room intertwined.

I peered into a sober room,
everything was just rustling branches,
no needles, no foliage is visible,
winter was observed for them,
but fir among them, to my mind, It was,
crowned by their shiny needle.

Two trees at mother from eyes,
for so much each of us,
but they are all of different heights,
the peaks are equally empty,
one needle had on the end.
Each has two trees in the face.

It all ended in the dark, how did it start,
it's over, silently subsided,
and half-darkness reigned again,
a needle flickered between the chairs,
I froze in the twilight by the window,
and silence reigned again.

The needle was still lying on the floor,
brother flinched with magazines in the corner,
the dial has not yet become clear,
father already repaired his machine,
the bolt jumped back in silence,
and the curtain fluttered on the window.

It's over, everything quickly subsided,
again, each lesson was found.
The cat lay gloomily under the lamp,
and his light was beautifully surrounded.
I tried to make out everything,
was thinking: who could hurt her.

Mother silently lifted something from the floor,
the needle was in her hands again.
I held my palms with my palms,
the needle was already diving on socks,
above her glasses flickered in a half-haze,
gleaming lenses on the table.

The wind was blowing, and the darkness was thickening,
emptiness was buzzing outside the windows,
I took out the wine from the window,
snow was falling through a blinded window
and made some kind of light ringing,
suddenly the phone rang in the hallway.

And immediately, pushing the darkness,
I rushed swiftly towards him,
forgetting, that I let someone go,
forgetting, that someone was in the room,
that someone sighed behind my back.
I picked up the phone and immediately heard:

- There will be no more holidays for you
there will be no drinking companions and vases

you will not be home in your homeland
there will be no kisses and linen

there will be no birthday cakes
you will not live from fools

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Joseph Brodsky
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