[to Joseph Brodsky] Poem by Ilma Rakusa

[to Joseph Brodsky]



Was the sofa red?
The transatlantic trunk
stood there like a boat
bound for America.
Flag trunk books all
on an even keel. You left
so suddenly but from a need
and as it tumed out
for ever. Now you are dead.

Translated by Andrew Winnard

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Ilma Rakusa

Ilma Rakusa

Rimavská Sobota
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