Читать книгу In Praise of Poetry - Ольга Седакова - Страница 27

6. THE RETURN: A POEM ABOUT ALEKSEI

How goodly it is to simply return:

to a city, where all is changed,

to a garden, where some trees

are distant stumps, others

creak in the wind, as they never did before,

or to a house, where they grieve that you’re gone.

To return, and not to say one’s name.

To be silent, then, unto death.

Let them guess for themselves,

let them ask passersby,

let them understand, and yet understand it not.

And the objects of the world shine,

like tiny distant stars.