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I threw my arms about those shoulders

M.

B.        I threw my arms about those shoulders, glancing        at what emerged behind that back,        and saw a chair pushed slightly forward,        merging now with the lighted wall.        The lamp glared too bright to show        the shabby furniture to some advantage,        and that is why sofa of brown leather        shone a sort of yellow in a corner.        The table looked bare, the parquet glossy,        the stove quite dark, and in a dusty frame        a landscape did not stir.

Only the sideboard        seemed to me to have some animation.        But a moth flitted round the room,        causing my arrested glance to shift;        and if at any time a ghost had lived here,        he now was gone, abandoning this house.1983, translated by the author.

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Joseph Brodsky

Iosif Aleksandrovich Brodsky (/ˈbrɒdski/; Russian: Ио́сиф Алекса́ндрович Бро́дский [ɪˈosʲɪf ɐlʲɪˈksandrəvʲɪtɕ ˈbrotskʲɪj] (About this soundliste…
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