Dear, there are no unfortunates! There are no dead, living.

The poet, as you know, in Russia is known, slightly more than a poet. And even more so a poet like Joseph Brodsky.

He, like no other, knew firsthand about the tragic fate of the poet in Russia. And about the tragic fate of a man of the 20th century.

About his struggle with time, which, no matter how hard you fight, you can not win. In these millstones get everything, you just need to resist - that's the whole essence of life.

Dissolve in these verses, magical lines and music, which is so similar to the human voice. Here the person is squeezed to hoarseness in a vice, here it flies and sings on wings of inspiration. Whisper, shout, song, groan ...

A laurel wreath on disheveled hair, a toga - he, like a prophet, opens up a new Brodsky, something we never knew.

Live word and live music, in the pulse of which every poetic word is given. Before us appears the image of the poet in all its complexity and versatility - a universe called Joseph Brodsky.

It is impossible to comprehend, but you can not give up the temptation to touch a little.

Many - actually, everything! - in this, at least, the world is worth love ...