The purpose of poetry is to remind us
how difficult it is to remain just one person,
for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors,
and invisible guests come in and out at will.
Tags: poetry
I have defined poetry as a 'passionate pursuit of the Real.
Czesław MiłoszTags: poetry
When, after a long life, it falls out
That he takes on a form he had sought
And every word carved in stone
Grows its hoarfrost, what then? Torches
Of Dionysian choruses in the dark mountains
From when he comes. And half of the sky
With its snaky clouds. A mirror before him.
In the mirror the already severed, perishing
Thing.
It is sweet to think I was a companion in an expedition that never ends
Czesław MiłoszTags: poetry
The purpose of poetry is to remind us / how difficult it is to remain just one person...
Czesław MiłoszTags: poetry
Consolation
Calm down. Both your sins and your good deeds will be lost in oblivion.
All was taken away from you: white dresses, wings, even existence.
Czesław MiłoszTomber amoureux. To fall in love. Does it occur suddenly or gradually? If gradually, when is the moment “already”? I would fall in love with a monkey made of rags. With a plywood squirrel. With a botanical atlas. With an oriole. With a ferret. With a marten in a picture. With the forest one sees to the right when riding in a cart to Jaszuny. With a poem by a little-known poet. With human beings whose names still move me. And always the object of love was enveloped in erotic fantasy or was submitted, as in Stendhal, to a “cristallisation,” so it is frightful to think of that object as it was, naked among the naked things, and of the fairy tales about it one invents. Yes, I was often in love with something or someone. Yet falling in love is not the same as being able to love. That is something different.
Czesław MiłoszNot soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year, I felt a door opening in me and I entered the clarity of early morning.
One after another my former lives were departing, like ships, together with their sorrow.
And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas assigned to my brush came closer, ready now to be described better than they were before.
Tags: life-lessons
Men will clutch at illusions when they have nothing else to hold to.
Czesław MiłoszTags: truth
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