“一首爱情诗就是一个人启动了的灵魂”—— 约瑟夫·布罗茨基
约瑟夫·布罗茨基（1940-1996）俄裔美国诗人，散文家，诺贝尔文学奖获得者。1940年生于列宁格勒。15岁即辍学谋生，打过许多杂工，很早开始写诗，并发表在苏联地下刊物上，1964年受当局审讯，被定为“社会寄生虫”，判刑5年，后来当局迫于舆论压力，在其服刑18个月后予以释放，被放逐后移居美国并加入美国籍，1987年因其哀婉动人的抒情诗作品获得诺贝尔文学奖。其英文写作也十分出色，诺贝尔奖提及他对“英语特性的掌握令人惊讶。”自称为“俄语诗人与英语散文家的愉快结合。”著作诗集《诗选》、《言论之一部分》、《二十世纪史》、《致乌拉尼亚》、以及散文集《小于一》。
A Song
I wish you were here, dear, I wish you were here.
I wish you sat on the sofa
and I sat near.
the handkerchief could be yours,
the tear could be mine, chin-bound.
Though it could be, of course,
the other way around.
I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish we were in my car,
and you'd shift the gear.
we'd find ourselves elsewhere,
on an unknown shore.
Or else we'd repair
To where we've been before.
I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish I knew no astronomy
when stars appear,
when the moon skims the water
that sighs and shifts in its slumber.
I wish it were still a quarter
to dial your number.
I wish you were here, dear,
in this hemisphere,
as I sit on the porch
sipping a beer.
It's evening, the sun is setting;
boys shout and gulls are crying.
What's the point of forgetting
If it's followed by dying?
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