In love with the earth, always drawn to shore,sending wave after wave—and each diesexhausted, like a Greek messenger. At dawn only whispers reach us,the low murmur of pebbles cast on sand(sensed even in the fishing town’s small square). — Adam Zagajewski, from “The Sea,” Eternal Enemies. Transl. (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008)
Remember the moments when we were togetherin a white room and the curtain fluttered.Return in thought to the concert where music flared.You gathered acorns in the park in autumnand leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.Praise the mutilated worldand the gray feather a thrush lost,and the gentle light that strays and vanishesand returns. —Adam Zagajewski, from… Continue reading Adam Zagajewski
Night is a cistern. Owls sing. Refugees tread meadow roadswith the loud rustling of endless grief.Who are you, walking in this worried crowd.And who will you become, who will you bewhen day returns, and ordinary greetings circle round. Night is a cistern. The last pairs dance at a country ball. High waves cry from the… Continue reading Adam Zagajewski
there’s always a little joy, and even beauty lies close at hand, beneath the bark of every hour, in the quiet heart of concentration, and another person hides in each of us — universal, strong, invincible. — Adam Zagajewski, from “Three Angels,” Pangolin House, Spring 2014. Translated by Clare Cavanagh
I thought about you and about the emptiness that can promise one thing only: plenitude— — Adam Zagajewski, from “Balance,” Eternal Enemies transl. by Clare Cavanagh (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008)
The Vale of Soul-Making 