I Sit By The Window
I said fate plays a game without a score,
and who needs fish if you've got caviar?
The triumph of the Gothic style would come to pass
and turn you on--no need for coke, or grass.
I sit by the window. Outside, an aspen.
When I loved, I loved deeply. It wasn't often.
I said the forest's only part of a tree.
Who needs the whole girl if you've got her knee?
Sick of the dust raised by the modern era,
the Russian eye would rest on an Estonian spire.
I sit by the window. The dishes are done.
I was happy here. But I won't be again.
I wrote: The bulb looks at the flower in fear,
and love, as an act, lacks a verb; the zer-
o Euclid thought the vanishing point became
wasn't math--it was the nothingness of Time.
I sit by the window. And while I sit
my youth comes back. Sometimes I'd smile. Or spit.
I said that the leaf may destory the bud;
what's fertile falls in fallow soil--a dud;
that on the flat field, the unshadowed plain
nature spills the seeds of trees in vain.
I sit by the window. Hands lock my knees.
My heavy shadow's my squat company.
My song was out of tune, my voice was cracked,
but at least no chorus can ever sing it back.
That talk like this reaps no reward bewilders
no one--no one's legs rest on my sholders.
I sit by the window in the dark. Like an express,
the waves behind the wavelike curtain crash.
A loyal subject of these second-rate years,
I proudly admit that my finest ideas
are second-rate, and may the future take them
as trophies of my struggle against suffocation.
I sit in the dark. And it would be hard to figure out
which is worse; the dark inside, or the darkness out.
Joseph Brodsky's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (I Sit By The Window by Joseph Brodsky )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(13 February 1879 - 2 March 1949)
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Death is Nothing at All, Henry Scott Holland
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Warning, Jenny Joseph
- The Character of a Happy Life, Sir Henry Wotton
Poem of the Day
- At the End of the Rainbow, Reagan A. Latumbo
- yeah you got all the answers i know - an.., sEaN nOrTh
- Life-death bicycle, gajanan mishra
- Broken Not Forgotten, Melissa Furey
- 2 ReaD A LinE Or 2 - Sh# ThaT they $mOkE.., sEaN nOrTh
- The Past, Sari Mavi
- winter clothes, Eric Ericson
- Sonnet11: 'Whose Mistresses These Are? '.., Pijush Biswas
- Deep in vogue, Stephen Brian Brady
- Deep into the Sea, Reagan A. Latumbo