Archivos por etiqueta: Wislawa Szymborska

The Three Oddest Words

When I pronounce the word Future, the first syllable already belongs to the past. When I pronounce the word Silence, I destroy it. When I pronounce the word Nothing, I make something no nonbeing can hold. Wislawa Szymborska, Poems New and Collected 1957-1997.

Life While-You-Wait

Life While-You-Wait. Performance without rehearsal. Body without alterations. Head without premeditation.   I know nothing of the role I play. I only know it’s mine. I can’t exchange it.   I have to guess on the spot just what this play’s all about.   Ill-prepared for the privilege of living, I can barely keep up […]

In Praise of Feeling Bad About Yourself

Para Cristina. The buzzard never says it is to blame. The panther wouldn’t know what scruples mean. When the piranha strikes, it feels no shame. If snakes had hands, they’d claim their hands were clean. A jackal doesn’t understand remorse. Lions and lice don’t waver in their course. Why should they, when they know they’re […]

In Praise of Dreams

In Praise of Dreams In my dreams I paint like Vermeer van Delft. I speak fluent Greek and not only with the living. I drive a car which obeys me. I am talented, I write long, great poems. I hear voices no less than the major saints. You would be amazed at my virtuosity on […]

Nada dos veces

Nada dos veces Nada ocurre dos veces y nunca ocurrirá, Nacimos sin experiencia, moriremos sin rutina. Aunque fuéramos los alumnos más torpes en la escuela del mundo, nunca más repasaremos ningún verano o invierno. Ningún día se repite, no hay dos noches iguales, dos besos que dieran lo mismo, dos miradas en los mismos ojos. […]