issa
3 października 2013 o 07:05

"Everything has its limit, including sorrow. / A windowpane stalls a stare. Nor does a grill abandon / a leaf. One may rattle the keys, gurgle down a swallow. / Loneliness cubes a man at random. / A camel sniffs at the rail with a resentful nostril; / a perspective cuts emptiness deep and even. / And what is space anyway if not the / body's absence at every given / point? That's why Urania's older than sister Clio! [...]". [To Urania, by Joseph Brodsky] :)

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Anthony DiMichele
9 listopada 2013 o 22:10

great response I just now found.... I love Brodsky~ I once heard him recite in Russian with a translator for English... all the music in it dies in translations... it becomes an echo. (amen).

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