Out of the Poetic Volume "Hosanna to My Anguish" by Anna Polibina-Polansky Out of Joseph Brodsky The English Poetic Renditions, by Anna Polibina-Polansky * * * A Part of Speech ...With the word "upcoming", out of the Russian speech true, There run away mice, they are at their minor roles. So they gnaw out a piece of the memory, those cunning creatures, At the fat cheese, they make some enormous holes. After many a year, it makes no difference what (What or, ratther, ...

By Joseph Brodsky The English Poetic Translations by Anna Polibina-Polansky * * * In order to spatter the grief due, With hollow, light-headed, sweet words, The life of a poet - I'm leading. Of course, this strange life may not hurt.   In order, to see, at a window, Some face, after shouts "farewell"... No matter that smiles are nt sweet so, - I'm eager, my fortune to tell.   Just at the dawn of the existence, Of movements, with God all at sight, I'...

By Joseph Brodsky The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky The Epigraph: I made contents of jails. To their greatest singer, As I had grown there, I offered my last cigar. * * * I'd not choose an exile sweet, Nor a graveyard that dark. The Vassilyevsky Island, Greet my death with a spark. You would not face my figure, You would not meet my youth. 'Mong the lines getting bleaker, Sidewalks, prompt me the truth!   Infatiguable souls All make haste, ...

By Joseph A. Brodsky The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky Ritratto di donna ("Zhenskiy portret") The portrait is stale, withered, like a bunch In her hands. Lies do touch the up craved future. Dark eyes watch just tomorrow, not confused, yet. The vases at the arch, are her long puns. The folders of the mouth, of organza Remind a curtain twinkling. Tools for walking Are closed at her fluffy angle lurking. So for a Prophet, she is not bizzare. The twinkli...

By Vyacheslav Ivanov The English Poetic Translation, by Anna Polibina-Polansky * * * ("Evropa. Utra hmuriy holod...") Oh, Europe! It's cold is gloomy. It walks and frowns darkened brows. By Cyclopes, so, the Hammer's loosened And Gothic churches fly in rows.   Oh Russia, widening are rails; Along the snow, drawn are knots. Along a path, the chains yet whail, Along the path of roaming lots.   Oh sod, the oceans' foam is grey, The bones of mounts are ...

Poetry by Joseph Brodsky The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky Love: Justifications ("Ya dvazhdy probuzhdalsya etoy noch'yu...") I got awakened twice, inside the gloom. I made my way to windows enlightened. An extract of a phrase addressed to whom, I'd not have told... The silence - filled the room. I wasn't, yet, consoled. The night got tighter.   I dreamed of you, that pregnant. Therefore We actually had parted. I am blaming Myself. T...

By Joseph Brodsky The English Poetic Renditions, by Anna Polibina-Polansky * * * An Up Loaded Trolley ("Skrip teleg tem sil'ney...") So coaches and trolleys all were squeaking - The more, the denser grew the shadows long. The path in wheats was all in briars, weak so. The squeaking grew with that malicious song. To woods, were coming those ways, through pastures. The wind gave such a generous, wide gesture. The beeches and the birches trembled swifter. The pile of stems ...

By Joseph Brodsky The English Poetic Rendition, by Anna Polibina-Polansky * * * ("Я слышу не то, что ты говоришь, а голос...") I hear not what you speak of, but, rather, a voice. I watch not your garments, but the even surface of a snow-white. It's a pole where we sit, not a room, and I would rejoice The face that, by our traces, is lead away from chilly notions. Once I knew by heart, all hues of the scope. Now my spectrum is totally white, baf...

By Joseph Brodsky The English Poetic Translation by Anna Polibina-Polansky * * * In Memory of Dad: Australia ("Ty ozhil, prisnilos' mne, i uehal...") You got revived, I dreamed of it. You went there - So, to Australia. The voice, thrice echoed. It called me and complaint of the climate wretched, And, with the housing, they can't still tackle.   It's pitiful, the center is afar. But still, the ocean is nearby, yet. The third floor, and the bath is all ajar. ...