Аллен Гинзберг в переводах Михаила Гунина

     Drinking my tea Without sugar —     No difference.The sparrow shits     upside down — ah! my brain & eggsMayan head in a Pacific driftwood bole — Someday I'll live in N.Y.

Looking over my shoulder my behind was covered with cherry blossoms. Winter HaikuI didn't know the names of the flowers-now my garden is gone.I slapped the mosquito and missed. What made me do that?Reading haiku I am unhappy, longing for the Nameless.

A frog floating in the drugstore jar: summer rain on grey pavements.On the porch in my shorts; auto lights in the rain.Another year has past-the world is no different.The first thing I looked for in my old garden was The Cherry Tree.My old desk: the first thing I looked for in my house.

My early journal: the first thing I found in my old desk.My mother's ghost: the first thing I found in the living room.I quit shaving but the eyes that glanced at me remained in the mirror.The madman emerges from the movies: the street at lunchtime.Cities of boys are in their graves, and in this town…

Lying on my side in the void: the breath in my nose.On the fifteenth floor the dog chews a bone- Screech of taxicabs.A hardon in New York, a boy in San Fransisco.The moon over the roof, worms in the garden. I rent this house.

Feb. 29, 1958