Joseph Brodsky

Here you will find the Poem Galatea Encore of poet Joseph Brodsky

Galatea Encore

As though the mercury's under its tongue, it won't 
talk. As though with the mercury in its sphincter, 
immobile, by a leaf-coated pond 
a statue stands white like a blight of winter. 
After such snow, there is nothing indeed: the ins 
and outs of centuries, pestered heather. 
That's what coming full circle means - 
when your countenance starts to resemble weather, 
when Pygmalion's vanished. And you are free 
to cloud your folds, to bare the navel. 
Future at last! That is, bleached debris 
of a glacier amid the five-lettered "never." 
Hence the routine of a goddess, nee 
alabaster, that lets roving pupils gorge on 
the heart of color and the temperature of the knee. 
That's what it looks like inside a virgin.