To Brodsky - Poem by Igor Sinelnikov
Among the noisy children and magican's shuffles
I'm taking Brodsky's book, my youthless, from shelves
I'm turning dusty pages kind of a madman,
Jugged lines are dancing, my breath's tailing off.
I can not express in words, I will tell Brodsky,
I will speak brightly, that I feel simple way.
The world has became plain for a moment,
There wans't those filth, that make my life lane.
Comments about To Brodsky by Igor Sinelnikov
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- TelevisionRoald Dahl