Стихи в апреле (В эту зиму опять...) - Иосиф Бродский (на английском)
This winter again
I didn’t went mad, but it
lo and is past. Differ noise of the ice drift
and green cover —
health indicator.
Congratulate myself
on the new season,
and with Fontanka the pupil is blinding,
I part myself on hundred.
I swipe myself with the five
And in brain like in wood —
Falling of snow crust
Made it to gray,
I see the tug into ice-cake
wading to creek. Not less
Then remembering of the bad
Turning paper into the butt
of the joke. I’m sorry
For grand style,
There’s no end of time of trouble,
but there is end of the winters
It is the essence of changings,
In the crowd, in wrangle of Camenaes
at the bowl of Mnemosyne