Было бы полной глупостью с моей стороны вдруг взяться за перевод слов "Песни" Йосифа Бродского на русский. Он мог бы сам прекрасно написать ее на русском языке. Но вот не захотел же. И мне захотелось поместить ее здесь. А если хотите послушать, как он ее читает на английском, ниже адрес сайта. Если по какой-то причине он не проявтися, заходите на 3даби/worldpoetry/usop/love3.htm
A Song
I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish you sat on the sofa
and I sat near.
The handkerchief could be yours,
the tear could be mine, chin bound.
Though it could be, of course,
the other way around.
I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish we were in my car,
and you'd shift the gear.
We'd find ourselves elsewhere,
on an unknown shore.
Or else we'd repair
to where we've been before.
I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish I knew no astronomy
when stars appear,
when the moon skims the water
that sighs and shifts in its slumber.
I wish it were still a quarter
to dial your number.
I wish you were here, dear,
in this hemisphere,
as I sit on the porch
sipping a beer.
It's evening; the sun is setting,
boys shout and gulls are crying.
What's the point of forgetting
if it's followed by dying?
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