Translation: Brodsky It Is Not That I'm Going Crazy, But I've Been Tired For Summer. Poem by Ruslan Agaev

It is not that I'm going crazy, but I've been tired for summer.
It's when you're searching for the shirt and the day is over.
I wish the winter could make haste and sweep
These people, cities but, firstly, greens.
I'll start sleeping undressed or reading unfamiliar books from any page,
Whilst the seasons' leftovers'll be crossing the street
In a right place.
Freedom is -
When you forget the patronymic of the tyrant,
And the saliva is sweeter than sweets from Shiraz,
And, though, your brain is twisted as horn of a ram,
Nothing actually falls from this blue eye.