То My Daughter(By Jozef Brodsky) Give me another life, and I'll be singing in Cafe Rafaello. Or simply sitting there. Or standing there, as furniture in the corner, in case that life is a bit less generous than the former. Yet partly because no century from now on will ever manage without caffeine or jazz, I'll sustain this damage, and through my cracks and pores, varnish and dust all over, observe you, in twenty years, in your full flower. On the whole, bear in mind that I'll be around. Or rather, that an inanimate object might be your father, especially if the object are older than you, or larger. So keep an eye on them always, for they will no doubt judge you. Love those things anyway, encounter or no encounter. Besides, you may still remember a silhouette, a contour, while I'll lose even that, along with the other luggage. Hence, these somewhat wooden lines in our common language.

MaxpyoU, никогда не любила Бродского ;)