She Puts On The Stockings, And Fall Comes - Англ

TRANSLATION OF A POEM BY JOSEPH BRODSKY
 Она Надевает Чулки, И Наступает Осень
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She puts on the stockings, and Fall comes;
the ceaseless nylon rain’s around.
The more the pavement’s riled at pockmarks,
the skirts get longer and the heels get loud.

Now, for the two columns to blanch in their briefs 
is awkward. And the bare portico’s covered. From any
point of view, less by one singular Lord’s
Summer, truly with you in it — isn’t many.

Now, if a rustle is heard — it’s the withdrawal sound
of troops no matter from where, the banners chatter.
And it is better to announce the season out loud,
if you can’t keep yourself hotter.

It seems the joints and the keys, waiting for a flat tone,
can’t distinguish themselves, split at their fiber.
And in the window with the noise’s bursting the sea ozone—
from where there is nothing at all but cipher.