Текст песни Иосиф Бродский - Ниоткуда с любовью, надцатого мартобря...

Nowhere with love, Eleventh martobrya ,
     dear , dear , dear , but it does not matter
     even who , because of facial features , saying
     frankly , do not remember , is not yours, but
     and nobody's faithful friend greets you with one
     of the five continents , keep on cowboys ;
     I loved you more than the angels, and himself,
     and so on now from you than from both of them ;
     late at night, asleep in the valley , at the bottom ,
     in town, snow-covered for the door handle ,
     writhing on the sheets at night -
     as described below is not at least -
     I whisking moo pillow & quot; you & quot;
     beyond the seas , which end in sight ,
     in the dark all over your features ,
     as crazy mirror repeating .