I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages,
carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters,
lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis,
dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles.
From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives rake my nitty-gritty.
Quit the country the bore and nursed me.
Those who forgot me would make a city.
I have waded the steppes that saw yelling Huns in saddles, worn the clothes nowadays back in fashion in every quarter, planted rye, tarred the roofs of pigsties and stables, guzzled everything save dry water. I've admitted the sentries' third eye into my wet and foul dreams. Munched the bread of exile; it's stale and warty.
Granted my lungs all sounds except the howl;
switched to a whisper. Now I am forty.
What should I say about my life? That it's long and abhors transparence.
Broken eggs make me grieve; the omelette, though, makes me vomit.
Yet until brown clay has been rammed down my larynx,
only gratitude will be gushing from it.
carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters,
lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis,
dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles.
From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives rake my nitty-gritty.
Quit the country the bore and nursed me.
Those who forgot me would make a city.
I have waded the steppes that saw yelling Huns in saddles, worn the clothes nowadays back in fashion in every quarter, planted rye, tarred the roofs of pigsties and stables, guzzled everything save dry water. I've admitted the sentries' third eye into my wet and foul dreams. Munched the bread of exile; it's stale and warty.
Granted my lungs all sounds except the howl;
switched to a whisper. Now I am forty.
What should I say about my life? That it's long and abhors transparence.
Broken eggs make me grieve; the omelette, though, makes me vomit.
Yet until brown clay has been rammed down my larynx,
only gratitude will be gushing from it.
-Joseph Brodsky
Brodsky seems to be descibing the hardships that he has endured in his life, especially his incarceration and exile from the Soviet Union with the line "Quit the country the bore and nursed me". "I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages,/carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters" describes living out a prison sentence, and could very well be true for the reader. Brodsky comments on the face that this is all in the past, and that even now that he is older than he was at the time. "Now I am forty./What should I say about my life? That it's long and abhors transparence", gives the message that his life has been long and difficult because of the harships that he endured.
Literary Devices:
"Broken eggs make me grieve; the omelette, though, makes me vomit" - Metaphor
Brodsky seems to be descibing the hardships that he has endured in his life, especially his incarceration and exile from the Soviet Union with the line "Quit the country the bore and nursed me". "I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages,/carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters" describes living out a prison sentence, and could very well be true for the reader. Brodsky comments on the face that this is all in the past, and that even now that he is older than he was at the time. "Now I am forty./What should I say about my life? That it's long and abhors transparence", gives the message that his life has been long and difficult because of the harships that he endured.
Literary Devices:
"Broken eggs make me grieve; the omelette, though, makes me vomit" - Metaphor
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