Wislawa Szymborska

The End and the Beginning

Wislawa Szymborska

After every war
someone has to clean up.
Things won't
straighten themselves up, after all.

Someone has to push the rubble
to the side of the road,
so the corpse-filled wagons
can pass.

Someone has to get mired
in scum and ashes,
sofa springs,
splintered glass,
and bloody rags.

Someone has to drag in a girder
to prop up a wall,
Someone has to glaze a window,
rehang a door.

Photogenic it's not,
and takes years.
All the cameras have left
for another war.

We'll need the bridges back,
and new railway stations.
Sleeves will go ragged
from rolling them up.

Someone, broom in hand,
still recalls the way it was.
Someone else listens
and nods with unsevered head.
But already there are those nearby
starting to mill about
who will find it dull.

From out of the bushes
sometimes someone still unearths
rusted-out arguments
and carries them to the garbage pile.

Those who knew
what was going on here
must make way for
those who know little.
And less than little.
And finally as little as nothing.

In the grass that has overgrown
causes and effects,
someone must be stretched out
blade of grass in his mouth
gazing at the clouds.



from Miracle Fair: Selected Poems of Wislawa Szymborska, 2001
W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., New York

Thanks Phoenix. I just entered this site, coming in from darkness, and you are going to be at the top of my list of reasons to stay. I will guess you are familiar to me from that "other place". The complete poem is a treasure. I'll need to bother Amazon again. I need more of this woman.

kul91- Thanks! And Thank YOU for introducing me to that poignant poem!

kul91

Welcome....and another thanks for introducing us (me at least ) to Wislawa Szymborska.

She is an amazing poet. First read her work in article in the NYT's Magazine Section. Her poems pack a visceral punch and make you think and break your heart. One I love is "Cat in an Empty Apartment".

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 non-being can hold.


(she is truly amazing)

Many of her poems are on Google, many sites listed...BUT be aware of quite a few translations for particular poems. Since the English is translated from Polish, much depends on the skill of the translator. WS gives much to think about, much to feel, simple language, great depth.