Страницы сайта поэта Иосифа Бродского (1940-1996)



                    

Иосиф Бродский

Letter to an Archaeologist Citizen, enemy, mama's boy, sucker, utter garbage, panhandler, swine, refujew, verrucht; a scalp so often scalded with boiling water that the puny brain feels completely cooked. Yes, we have dwelt here: in this concrete, brick, wooden rubble which you now arrive to sift. All our wires were crossed, barbed, tangled, or interwoven. Also: we didn't love our women, but they conceived. Sharp is the sound of pickax that hurts dead iron; still, it's gentler that what we've been told or have said ourselves. Stranger! move carefully through our carrion: what seems carrion to you is freedom to our cells. Leave our names alone. Don't reconstruct those vowels, consonants, and so forth: they won't resemble larks but a demented bloodhound whose maw devours its own traces, feces, and barks, and barks. 1983, translated by the author. Источник: http://www-users.cs.umn.edu/~safonov/brodsky/letter_to_archaeologist.html






Биография Бродского, часть 1         Биография Бродского, часть 2        
Биография Бродского, часть 3


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