Буковски стихи на английском
Обновлено: 22.11.2024
we had goldfish and they circled around and around
in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
covering the picture window and
my mother, always smiling, wanting us all
.
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
.
Long walks at night--
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
.
I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny
blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny
they are small, and the fountain is in France
where you wrote me that last letter and
.
we are always asked
to understand the other person's
viewpoint
no matter how
.
washed-up, on shore, the old yellow notebook
out again
I write from the bed
as I did last
.
Either peace or happiness,
let it enfold you
.
it was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street
I used to get drunk
and throw the radio through the window
while it was playing, and, of course,
.
To give life you must take life,
and as our grief falls flat and hollow
upon the billion-blooded sea
I pass upon serious inward-breaking shoals rimmed
.
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