Joseph Brodsky

Joseph Brodsky

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Iosif Aleksandrovich Brodsky (/ˈbrɒdski/; Russian: Ио́сиф Алекса́ндрович Бро́дский [ɪˈosʲɪf ɐlʲɪˈksandrəvʲɪtɕ ˈbrotskʲɪj] (About this soundlisten); 24 May 1940 – 28 January 1996) was a Russian-American poet and essayist.
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I Sit By The Window

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I said fate plays a game without a score,and who needs fish if you've got caviar
The triumph of the Gothic style would come to passand turn you on—no need for coke, or grass
I sit by the window
Outside, an aspen
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On The 100th Anniversary Of Anna Akhmatova

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The fire and the page, the hewed hairs and the swords,
The grains and the millstone, the whispers and the clatter -- God saves all that -- especially the words Of love and pity, as His only way to utter
The harsh pulse pounds and the blo...
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The Funeral Of Bobó

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Bobó is dead, but don't take off your hat
You can't explain why there's no consolation
We cannot pin a butterfly upon the Admiralty spire -- we'd only crush it
The squares of windows no matter where one looks on every side
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History of the Twentieth Century A Roadshow

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The Sun's in its orbit,  yet I feel morbid
Act
Ladies and gentlemen and the day
All ye made of sweet human clay
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To the President Elect

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To the President
Joseph
You've climbed the mountain
At its top,the mountain and the climbing stop
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Tsushima Screen

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The perilous yellow sun follows with its slant eyesmasts of the shuddered grove steaming up to capsizein the frozen straits of Epiphany
February has fewerdays than the other months; therefore, it's more cruelthan the rest
Dearest, it's m...
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Letter to an Archaeologist

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Citizen, enemy, mama's boy, sucker, uttergarbage, panhandler, swine, refujew, verrucht;a scalp so often scalded with boiling waterthat the puny brain feels completely cooked
Yes, we have dwelt here: in this concrete, brick, woodenrubble which...
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Odysseus to Telemachus

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My dear Telemachus,
The Trojan War is over now;
I don't recall who won it
The Greeks, no doubt, for only they would leaveso many dead so far from their own homeland
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For Schoolchildren

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You know,
I try, when darkness falls,to estimate to some degree —by marking off the grief in miles —the distance now from you to me
And all the figures change to words:confusion, which begins at A,and hope, which starts at B, move toward...
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Love

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Twice I awoke this night, and went to the window
The streetlamps were a fragment of a sentence spoken in sleep, leading to nothing, like omission points, affording me no comfort and no cheer
I dreamt of you, with child, and now, having l...
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Two Hours In Reservoir

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1I am an anti-fascist
anti-Faust Ich liebe life and I admire chaos Ich bin to wish,
Genosse Offizieren,
Dem Zeit zum Faust for a while spazieren
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Moscow Carol

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In such an inexplicable blue,
Upon the stonework to embark,
The little ship of glowing hue Appears in Alexander Park
The little lamp, a yellow rose,
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Tornfallet

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There is a meadow in Swedenwhere I lie smitten,eyes stained with clouds'white ins and outs
And about that meadowroams my widowplaiting a cloverwreath for her lover
I took her in marriagein a granite parish
The snow lent her whitenes...
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From A School Anthology

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1
E
LarionovaE
Larionova
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A list of some observation

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A list of some observation
In a corner, it's warm
A glance leaves an imprint on anything it's dwelt on
Water is glass's most public form
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Folk Tune

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It's not that the Muse feels like clamming up,it's more like high time for the lad's last nap
And the scarf-waving lass who wished him the bestdrives a steamroller across his chest
And the words won't rise either like that rodor like log...
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