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Letters To The Roman Friend

From Martial

Now is windy and the waves are cresting over

Fall is soon to come to change the place entirely.

Change of colors moves me, Postum, even stronger

Than a girlfriend while she’s changing her attire.

Maidens comfort you but to a certain limit —

Can’t go further than an elbow or a kneeline.

by Joseph Brodsky

"From nowhere with love, on the -eenth of Marchember"

From nowhere with love, on the -eenth of Marchember,

dear respectful my darling, doesn't matter

even who, for the face, speaking frankly,

is impossible to remember, not yours, and

no-one's best friend, sends his regards being on one

of the five continents, related to cow-boys;

I loved you more than angels and even Himself

and am further from you now than from them both;

by Joseph Brodsky

Elegy

About a year has passed. I've returned to the place of the battle,

to its birds that have learned their unfolding of wings

from a subtle

lift of a surprised eyebrow, or perhaps from a razor blade

- wings, now the shade of early twilight, now of state

bad blood.

Now the place is abuzz with trading

in your ankles's remnants, bronzes

by Joseph Brodsky

Galatea Encore

As though the mercury's under its tongue, it won't

talk. As though with the mercury in its sphincter,

immobile, by a leaf-coated pond

a statue stands white like a blight of winter.

After such snow, there is nothing indeed: the ins

and outs of centuries, pestered heather.

That's what coming full circle means -

when your countenance starts to resemble weather,

by Joseph Brodsky

Bosnia Tune

As you pour yourself a scotch

Crush a roach or check your watch

As your hands adjust your tie people die

In the towns with funny names

Hit by bullets, caught in flames

By and large not knowing why people die

And in small places you don't know of

Yet big for having no chance to scream

by Joseph Brodsky

A Polar Explorer

All the huskies are eaten. There is no space

left in the diary, And the beads of quick

words scatter over his spouse's sepia-shaded face

adding the date in question like a mole to her lovely cheek.

Next, the snapshot of his sister. He doesn't spare his kin:

what's been reached is the highest possible latitude!

And, like the silk stocking of a burlesque half-nude

queen, it climbs up his thigh: gangrene.

by Joseph Brodsky

Belfast Tune

Here's a girl from a dangerous town

She crops her dark hair short

so that less of her has to frown

when someone gets hurt.

She folds her memories like a parachute.

Dropped, she collects the peat

and cooks her veggies at home: they shoot

here where they eat.

by Joseph Brodsky

I Sit By The Window

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 pass

and turn you on—no need for coke, or grass.

I sit by the window. Outside, an aspen.

When I loved, I loved deeply. It wasn't often.

I said the forest's only part of a tree.

Who needs the whole girl if you've got her knee?

by Joseph Brodsky

A Song

I wish you were here, dear,

I wish you were here.

I wish you sat on the sofa

and I sat near.

The handkerchief could be yours,

the tear could be mine, chin-bound.

Though it could be, of course,

the other way around.

by Joseph Brodsky

Odysseus to Telemachus

My dear Telemachus,

The Trojan War

is over now; I don't recall who won it.

The Greeks, no doubt, for only they would leave

so many dead so far from their own homeland.

But still, my homeward way has proved too long.

While we were wasting time there, old Poseidon,

it almost seems, stretched and extended space.

by Joseph Brodsky

History of the Twentieth Century (A Roadshow)

The Sun's in its orbit,

yet I feel morbid.

Act 1

Prologue

Ladies and gentlemen and the day!

All ye made of sweet human clay!

Let me tell you: you are o'kay.

Our show is to start without much delay.

by Joseph Brodsky