Текст песни joseph b. - лагуна

I

Three old women with knitting in deep armchairs
talk in the hall about the torment of the godparents;
boarding house "Akkademia" together with
the whole universe floats to Christmas with a roar
TV; thrusting the ledger under the elbow,
the clerk turns the wheel.

II

And ascends to his room aboard the ladder
a guest carrying a grappa in his pocket,
perfect nobody, man in a raincoat,
who has lost his memory, homeland, son;
an aspen cries over his hump in the woods,
if anyone cries for him at all.

III

Venice churches as tea sets,
you can hear a ringing in a box from under random
lives. Bronze octopus
chandeliers in trellis overgrown with duckweed,
licks the one filled with tears, caress,
dirty dreams of a damp machine.

IV

Adriatic at night with an easterly wind
the channel fills like a bathtub with top,
shakes boats like cradles; fish,
it is not the ox at the head that gets up at night,
and the starfish in the window beams
the curtain moves while you sleep.

V

So we will live, pouring the dead
water glass decanter wet
grappa flame, shredding bream, not
goose bird to feed us
your chordal ancestor, Savior,
on a winter night in a damp country.

VI

Christmas without snow, balls and spruce,
by the sea, constrained by a map in the body;
letting the shell of the clam to the bottom,
hiding his face, but captivating with his back,
Time comes out of the waves, changing
the arrow on the tower - her one.

Vii

Sinking city where the mind is solid
suddenly becomes wet eye,
where the northern sphinxes are southern brother,
winged lion who can read,
having slammed the book shut, he will not shout "fight!"
glad to drown in the splash of mirrors.

VIII

The gondola hits the rotten piles.
Sound denies itself, words and
hearing; as well as the power
where hands are stretched by a coniferous forest
before a petty but predatory demon
and the saliva freezes in the mouth.

IX

We cross with the left, which has absorbed the claws,
right paw, bent at the elbow;
we get a gesture similar to
a hammer in a sickle, - and, like the devil Solokha,
we will bravely show it to the era,
took the form of a bad dream.

X

A body in a cloak lives in the spheres,
where is Sofia, Nadezhda, Vera
and there is no love to come, but always
there is a present, no matter how bitter
there was no taste of kisses ebre 'and gays,
and cities where the footprint

XI

does not leave - like a boat on the surface
aquatic, any space behind,
taken in numbers, reducing to zero -
leaves no traces of deep
in squares like "goodbye" wide,
in narrow streets, like the sound "love".

XII

Spiers, columns, carving, stucco
arches, bridges and palaces; look at-
top: see the smile of a lion
on the wind-swept tower, like a dress,
indestructible, like a grain outside arable land,
with a time belt instead of a ditch.

XIII

Night at San Marco. Passer-by with crumpled
face comparable in the darkness with the
ring finger, gnawing
nail, looks, enveloped in peace,
in that "nowhere", to linger in any
thoughts are allowed, the pupil is not.

XIV

There, beyond nowhere, beyond
- black, colorless, possibly white -
there is some thing, object.
Maybe the body. In an era of friction
the speed of light is the speed of vision;
even when there is no light.