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The Poet and the world - wislawa szymborska

"The moment always came when poets had to close the doors behind them, strip off their mantles, fripperies, and other poetic paraphernalia, and confront – silently, patiently awaiting their own selves – the still white sheet of paper. For this is finally what really counts.” - from Wislawa Szymborska's Nobel speech, The Poet and the World.

Before Wislawa’s gaze, reality stood. stripped of all artifice. But what ensued was not an expression of fear or the arrogance of enlightenment. her poetry is nothing but love. a deep, wondrous love for everything that is mysterious, beautful and absurd. It is a letter to the world. It enquires, celebrates, cajoles, playfully teases.


With such precision and simplicity, she reveals the nature of things, that we are incredulous to see that it is possible to forge a relationship with the unknown. a bond that is tempered with uncertainty. and manifested with the delicacy of a dream catcher reining in a storm in a teacup.




transcript


Classifieds - Wislawa Szymborska


WHOEVER'S found out what location compassion (heart's imagination) can be contacted at these days,

is herewith urged to name the place; and sing about it in full voice, and dance like crazy and rejoice beneath the frail birch that appears to be upon the verge of tears.


I TEACH silence

in all languages through intensive examination of: the starry sky, the Sinanthropus' jaws, a grasshopper's hop, an infant's fingernails, plankton, a snowflake.


I RESTORE lost love. Act now! Special offer! You lie on last year's grass bathed in sunlight to the chin while winds of summers past caress your hair and seem to lead you in a dance. For further details, write: "Dream."


WANTED: someone to mourn the elderly who die alone in old folks' homes. Applicants, don't send forms or birth certificates. All papers will be torn, no receipts will be issued at this or later dates.


FOR PROMISES made by my spouse, who's tricked so many with his sweet colors and fragrances and sounds -- dogs barking, guitars in the streets -- into believing that they still might conquer loneliness and fright, I cannot be responsible. Mr. Day's widow, Mrs. Night.


#poemaday #apoemaday #poetry #poetly #poets #classifieds #wislawa


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