Try To Praise The Mutilated World By Adam Zagajewski,

Try To Praise The Mutilated World By Adam Zagajewski Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June’s long days, and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine. The nettles that methodically overgrow the abandoned homesteads of exiles. You must praise the mutilated world. You watched the stylish yachts and ships; one of them had a long […]

Ordinary Life By Adam Zagajewski

Ordinary Life By Adam Zagajewski Our life is ordinary, I read in a crumpled paper abandoned on a bench. Our life is ordinary, the philosophers told me. Ordinary life, ordinary days and cares, a concert, a conversation, strolls on the town’s outskirts, good news, bad— but objects and thoughts were unfinished somehow, rough drafts. Houses […]

To Go To Lvov By Adam Zagajewski

To Go To Lvov By Adam Zagajewski There was always too much of Lvov, no one could comprehend its boroughs, hear the murmur of each stone scorched by the sun, at night the Orthodox church’s silence was unlike that of the cathedral, the Jesuits baptized plants, leaf by leaf, but they grew, grew so mindlessly, […]

Try To Praise The Mutilated World By Adam Zagajewski Translated By Clare Cavanagh

Try To Praise The Mutilated World By Adam Zagajewski Translated By Clare Cavanagh Try to praise the mutilated world.Remember June’s long days,and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine.The nettles that methodically overgrowthe abandoned homesteads of exiles.You must praise the mutilated world.You watched the stylish yachts and ships;one of them had a long trip ahead of […]

Great Ships By Adam Zagajewski Translated By Clare Cavanagh

Great Ships By Adam Zagajewski Translated By Clare Cavanagh This is a poem about the great ships that wandered                    the oceans And groaned sometimes in deep voices, grumbling about fog                    and submerged peaks, But usually they sliced the pages of tropical seas                    in silence, Divided by height, category, and class, just like our […]

Evening, Stary Sacz By Adam Zagajewski Translated By Clare Cavanagh

Evening, Stary Sacz By Adam Zagajewski Translated By Clare Cavanagh The sun sets behind the market square, and the nettle leaves reflect the small town’s imperfections. Teapots whistle in the houses, like many trains departing simultaneously. Bonfires flame on meadows and their long sighs weave above the trees like drifting kites. The last pilgrims return […]