Well, for a number of reasons I was asked to write a poem about Christmas. I admit, in all honesty, the thing is unsettling. There and then I said: Well, okay, yes, yes, well, I'll write a poem about Christmas. But I felt a certain degree of perplexity. Of course, I never thought of writing a poem about Christmas. I mean, I once wrote a story about Christmas set on Christmas day in horse racing agency, then I have some 'changed, rewritten and finally Christmas was gone. So you could say that I have never written anything on Christmas. No, once I rewrote a play for an essay of some kids, the teacher tells me here, there would be this story, on Christmas, it should be staged. I figured, okay, do it, yes yes, good. Then I read it. Dickens could be, there are also movies with J. Carry. But it was Guareschi, and, well, you should read to understand. The fact is that the first star comet, the first "magic" of Christmas m'รจ got seasick, so I rewrote the whole stuff with a revolutionary ants, crows ... bah well, maybe there was still something of the story, but still say that it was more a tale of Christmas with Christmas.
So now I'm there with white paper, after I write the mail with black and white "waiting for your text. That is, the poem about Christmas.
Now, I wonder, is there a more difficult issue that a poem of Christmas? What if you speak the spleen of the city, consumerism, panettone, you're granted. If you talk about what you cook your grandmother, the family meeting, with the gifts you in three years, are rhetorical. If you talk about the cold, snow the night, you're naive. If you talk about the religious theme ... and how do you talk about the religious theme in a poem starting from Christmas to Christmas? E ' all very complicated. Then a flash: I remember years ago bought a book by Brodsky titled "Poems of Christmas." And I remember clearly that he had never read so much on the ground, in fact, that there were "poems of Christmas," which is pretty bumper, at least for me, in hindsight. However, one would say, maybe try to read a poem Brodkij Christmas, why not, it could also help find a way ... and I find these verses, which are only the beginning of a longer poem, and I say, though, Broskij, he has done it to write poetry for Christmas.
The second Christmas on the shore of Pontus
that is never frozen.
The star of the Magi on the fence of the port. I can not say
unable to live without you - as I live.
As is evident from this page.
exist: gulp my beer, daub
leaves, and grass, trample.
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