Иосиф Бродский. - Нобелевская лекция. часть 1 - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

For a person, private and particularly this whole life of any social role preferred, for a person who has come to prefer this is quite far away-and in particular from the homeland, for it is better to be the last loser in democracy than the martyr or the ruler of the Duma in despotism-to be suddenly turned out to be This rostrum is a great awkwardness and test.

This feeling is aggravated not so much by the thought of those who stood here before me, but by the memory of those whom this honor has passed, who could not appeal, which is called "Urby E orbi" from this rostrum and whose general silence is looking for and does not find in you output.

The only thing that can reconcile you with a similar position is that a simple consideration that - for reasons is primarily stylistic - the writer cannot speak for the writer, especially the poet for the poet; That, having shown Osip Mandelstam, Marina Tsvetaeva, Robert Frost, Anna Akhmatova, Winston Oden, they would involuntarily spoke for themselves, and perhaps they would have experienced some awkwardness.

These shadows embarrass me constantly, they confuse me today. In any case, they do not encourage me to eloquence. In my best moments, I seem to myself as if their amount - but always smaller than any of them separately. For it is better to be on paper; It is impossible to be better than them in life, and this is precisely their lives, no matter how tragic and bitter they were, they often make me - apparently, more often than it should - regret the movement of time. If that light exists - and I refuse it the possibility of eternal life, I am no more able than to forget about their existence in this - if that light exists, then they, I hope, will forgive me the quality of what I am going to state: in the end Without behavior on the rostrum, the dignity of our profession is measured.

I called only five - those whose work and whose fate is dear to me, if only by the fact that, if they hadn’t, I would be a person and as a writer would cost a little: in any case, I would not stand here today. They, these shadows are better: light sources - lamps? stars? - It was, of course, more than five, and any of them is able to doom into a dumb. Their number is great in the life of every conscious writer; In my case, it doubles thanks to those two cultures to which I belong to the will.

I am also facilitated by the idea of contemporaries and brothers in Peru in both of these cultures, poets and prose writers, whose talents I appreciate above my own, and who, if they were on this tribune, would have gone to the matter, because they have more What to say to the world than mine.

Therefore, I will allow myself a number of remarks - perhaps unstable, confused and able to puzzle you with their inconvenience. However, the amount of time allotted to me to gather my thoughts and my profession itself will protect me, I hope, at least partially from reproaches in randomness. A person of my profession rarely claims to be systematic of thinking; In the worst case, he claims to be a system. But this is, as a rule, borrowed: from the environment, from the social structure, from philosophy at tender age. Nothing convinces the artist of an accident that he uses to achieve one or another - even constant - goal, rather than the most creative process, the process of writing. Poems, according to Akhmatova, are really growing from Sora; The roots of prose are no more noble.