The line divisions were not that hard to determine because the translation is mostly in blank verse (not bad, though it occasionally approaches to mere syllabics on the one hand and too much regularity on the other); where syllable counting or meter didn't make the breaks obvious, I broke for sense. The embedded line numbers were of great help in confirming my choices. Like the translation, the Russian original is apparently in ten-syllable lines---in imitation of Donne's elegies---but the original rhymes *abab cdcd*, etc.
I've retained Kline's British spelling and some oddities of punctuation, and made only one emendation: in line 191, it seems to me that the original "crew's nest" was a typo.
The word *great *[*bolshaya*] in the title was not used in Kline's version but is often used in English references to the poem. Obviously, Brodsky was not making a claim of quality by using the term but only one of size (and implicitly, substance).
On Tue, Sep 24, 2013 at 11:28 PM, michael yates <mikedjyates at msn.com> wrote:
> This beautiful poem brought me to tears. Here is the end of it:
>
> "All things have sunk in sleep. But one last verse awaits its end, baring
> its fangs to snarl that earthly love is but a poet's duty, while love
> celestial is an abbott's flesh. Whatever millstone these swift waters turn
> will grind the same coarse grain in this one world. For though our life may
> be a thing to share, who is there in this world to share our death? Man's
> garment gapes with holes. It can be torn by him who will, at this edge or
> at that. It falls to shreds, and is made whole again. Once more 'tis rent.
> And only the far sky, in darkness, brings the healing needle home. Sleep,
> John Donne, sleep. Sleep soundly, do not fret thy soul. As for thy coat,
> 'tis torn; all limp it hangs. But see, there from the clouds will shine
> that star which made thy world endure till now."
>
> My goodness!
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