Masterbation Audition

Venezia. Canaregio

"Winter in this city, especially on Sundays, you wake up to the ringing of bells, countless, like the pearl in the sky over muslin tinkled on the silver a giant tray of tea service. Spreading out the window and the room suddenly floods that street, filled with the ringing of bells haze, which is part of - crude oxygen part - coffee and prayer. \u0026lt;...> In those days the city deytvitelno gets kind of porcelain, galvanized dome and without that is like teapots or cups upside down, and the slope profiles bells are ringing as the forgotten spoon and melt into the sky. Not to mention the seagulls and pigeons, then condensed, then melting into air. "
Joseph Brodsky