And Yet the Books And yet the books will be there on the shelves, separate beings, That appeared once, still wet As shining chestnuts under a tree in autumn, And, touched, coddled, began to live In spite of fires on the horizon, castles blown up, Tribes on the march, planets in motion. “We are, ” […]
Czeslaw Milosz
Ode to Weather
After Paradise Don’t run any more. Quiet. How softly it rains On the roofs of the city. How perfect All things are. Now, for the two of you Waking up in a royal bed by a garret window. For a man and a woman. For one plant divided Into masculine and feminine which longed for […]
Nothing But Gifts
You talked but after your talking all the rest remains. After your talking—poets, philosophers, contrivers of romances—everything else, All the rest deduced inside the flesh Which lives & knows not just what is permitted. I am a woman held fast now in a great silence. Not all creatures have your need for words. Birds you […]