He Was From Empyrean Of Christ. To J. Brodsky Poem by Liza Sud

Joseph goes up to the stage
and all steps are like full of pain,
look like of a bird from a cage,
like from far and not of this place.

But he's stern, above all the Judgments,
with self-confidence of Messiah,
with a playful and kind politeness,
always serious and reciting.

Always somewhere in long-long line,
after dot - a new one, so endless,
without pause, like the Word of God,
and you find in them faith and safety.

That is how the water flows,
That's the endlessness of Iosif.
That's the easyness of the Cross
who is the book of million of voices.

And for him the Nature is dead,
And he sees no earthly seasons,
because they all come to an end
but there's no point to ask the reason.

That's why he wrote Naturmort -
death of flesh, that is great, surprising.
resurrecting like a sweet blow,
whose dictate is uncompromising.

Went away from the sea of Ashes,
came to the land of Money-terrika,
wrote to both - sweet lovely passage -
like a guest coming to barbarians.

In his life he remained so simple.
Walking shell for a powerful Geist.
There were two empires of evil,
He was from empyrean of Christ.