Archive for the ‘Russian poets’ Category

Joseph Brodsky – A Song   Leave a comment

Joseph Brodsky reads his poem A Song.

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.

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish we were in my car,
and you’d shift the gear.
We’d find ourselves elsewhere,
on an unknown shore.
Or else we’d repair
to where we’ve been before.

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish I knew no astronomy
when stars appear,
when the moon skims the water
that sighs and shifts in its slumber.
I wish it were still a quarter
to dial your number.

I wish you were here, dear,
in this hemisphere,
as I sit on the porch
sipping a beer.
It’s evening; the sun is setting,
boys shout and gulls are crying.
What’s the point of forgetting
if it’s followed by dying?

brodsky

Postat juli 4, 2013 av estraden i Russian poets

Joseph Brodsky – Venezian Stanzas   Leave a comment

Joseph Brodsky reads his poem Venezian Stanzas.

Brod­sky wro­te this po­em in Ve­nice whe­re he is now bu­ri­ed. It is de­di­ca­ted to Su­san Son­tag.

Postat september 12, 2011 av estraden i Russian poets

Joseph Brodsky – Almost an Elegy   Leave a comment

Postat juli 3, 2010 av estraden i Russian poets

Joseph Brodsky – From nowhere with love   Leave a comment

From nowhere with love
Joseph Brodsky

Ниоткуда с любовью, надцатого мартобря,
дорогой, уважаемый, милая, но неважно
даже кто, ибо черт лица, говоря
откровенно, не вспомнить, уже не ваш, но
и ничей верный друг вас приветствует с одного
из пяти континентов, держащегося на ковбоях;
я любил тебя больше, чем ангелов и самого,
и поэтому дальше теперь от тебя, чем от них обоих;
поздно ночью, в уснувшей долине, на самом дне,
в городке, занесенном снегом по ручку двери,
извиваясь ночью на простыне —
как не сказано ниже по крайней мере —
я взбиваю подушку мычащим «ты»
за морями, которым конца и края,
в темноте всем телом твои черты
как безумное зеркало повторяя.

From nowhere with love
Joseph Brodsky

From nowhere with love the enth of Marchember sir
sweetie respected darling but in the end
it’s irrelevant who for memory won’t restore
features not yours and no one’s devoted friend
greets you from this fifth last part of earth
resting on whalelike backs of cowherding boys
I loved you better than angels and Him Himself
and am farther off due to that from you than I am from both
of them now late at night in the sleeping vale
in the little township up to its doorknobs in
snow writhing upon the stale
sheets for the whole matter’s skin –
deep I’m howling ”youuu” through my pillow dike
many seas aways that are milling nearer
with my limbs in the dark playing your double like
an insanity-stricken mirror.

translated by the author

En minnesvärd kväll i september 1993 besökte Joseph Brodsky estraden på Mosebacke.
På scenen framförde han sin poesi på sitt modersmål ryska, tolkad till svenska av Bengt Jangfeldt.
Men på slutet av sitt framträdande överraskade han också publiken med en del nyskriven poesi på engelska.