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Soap Box Poets

Don't Leave the Room
© by Iosif Aleksandrovič Brodskij

Don’t leave the room, don’t make a mistake,
Just go to the toilet and dash right back.
No need for Sun if you smoke Shipka.
Outside the door nothing makes sense,
Especially those whoops of bliss.

Oh, don’t leave the room, don’t start the engine,
For space is made of passage
and ends with a counter.
If a gaping tootsie comes,
Don’t strip her off, turn her out of door.

Don’t leave the room, pretend you’ve caught a cold,
There’s nothing more fun than a chair and four walls.
Why leave the room where you will return
later that evening just the way you were,
moreover, crippled?

Oh, don’t leave the room, dance to bossa nova
Your bare feet in shoes, your skin under coat.
The hallway smells of ski wax and cabbage.
You’ve written many letters, another will be needless.

Don’t leave the room! Oh, let only the room see your essence.
And basically, incognito ergo sum,
As substance once harshly told the form.
Don’t leave the room! It ain’t France after all.

Don’t be a fool! Be what others fail to be.
Don’t leave the room. Merge in your wallpaper,
Set your furniture free.
Lock up and bar the Chronos, cosmos,
Eros, race and virus from getting indoors.

(Translated by Lilli Ghazaryan)

Submitted by Оксана Кубарева

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