Joseph Brodsky, translated by Howard Moss, from a poem titled "I Sit By The Window,"
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favourite poems of july
knar gavin strindberg grey
dahlia ravikovitch the love of an orange (tr. chana bloch)
danez smith summer, somewhere
hannah gamble your invitation to a modest breakfast: “your invitation to a modest breakfast”
claire schwartz lecture on the history of the house
joseph brodsky collected poems in english, 1972-1999: “a part of speech”
ralph angel twice removed: “alpine wedding”
bob hicok insomnia diary: “spirit ditty of no fax-line dial tone”
caleb klaces language is her caravan
philip good & bernadette mayer alternating lunes
hester knibbe light-years (tr. jacquelyn pope)
tracy k. smith life on mars: “the universe as primal scream”
rigoberto gonzález other fugitives and other strangers: “the strangers who find me in the woods”
stephen edgar murray dreaming
james schuyler other flowers: uncollected poems: “light night”
amy beeder because our waiters are hopeless romantics
diane seuss backyard song
tomás q. morín love train
safiya sinclair the art of unselfing
carol muske-dukes skylight: “the invention of cuisine”
peter gizzi the outernationale: “vincent, homesick for the land of pictures”
william matthews selected poems and translations, 1969-1991: “onions”
c.k. williams butcher
mark mccloskey the smell of the woods
jennifer chang the age of unreason
richard blanco city of a hundred fires: “contemplations at the virgin de la caridad cafeteria, inc.”
bob hicock the pregnancy of words
j. allyn rosser impromptu
carl phillips then the war
stephanie young ursula or university: “essay”
gloria e. anzaldúa the new speakers
kofi
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Joseph Brodsky, from The Selected Poems of Joseph Brodsky; "A Letter in a Bottle,"
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[Brodsky's] first words to me - as I stretched out my hand through the open door to grasp his - were "Cherez porog nel'zia" ("Don't [greet anyone] across the threshold"), quickly followed, with a smile and in heavily-accented English, by "Old Russian custom".
George L. Kline, from his essay “A History of Brodsky’s Ostanovka v pustule and his Selected Poems”, published in Modern Poetry in Translation, New Series, No. 10, 1996
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You know, after dark
I'm trying to figure it out by eye
counting the grief from miles away,
the space that separates us.
And the numbers somehow fit into words,
where are they approaching you from?
confusion coming from A,
hope coming from B.
Two travelers, holding a lantern,
moving at the same time in the darkness,
multiplying separation by dawn,
even without meeting in the mind.
Joseph Brodsky
1964
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I wish I knew no astronomy when stars appear.
-Joseph Brodsky
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"[...] darkness restores what light cannot repair."
-Joseph Brodsky
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