New stanzas to Augusta, I

                "Новые стансы к Августе"
                (Иосиф Бродский)


            I
On Tuesday came September.
It rained all night through slumber.
All birds have flown away.
But only I'm so lone and brave,
I didn't even watch them distance.
Deserted sky is torn in half,
rain sews the clearance.
I don't need South.


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