Report From Paradise
In paradise the work week is fixed at thirty hours salaries are higher prices steadily go down manual labour is not tiring (because of reduced gravity) chopping wood is no harder than typing the social system is stable and the rulers are wise really in paradise one is better off than in whatever country At first it was to have been different luminous circles choirs and degrees of abstraction but they were not able to separate exactly the soul from the flesh and so it would come here with a drop of fat a thread of muscle it was necessary to face the consequences to mix a grain of the absolute with a grain of clay one more departure from doctrine the last departure only John foresaw it: you will be resurrected in the flesh not many behold God he is only for those of 100 per cent pneuma the rest listen to communiqués about miracles and floods some day God will be seen by all when it will happen nobody knows As it is now every Saturday at noon sirens sweetly bellow and from the factories go the heavenly proletarians awkwardly under their arms they carry their wings like violins
Zbigniew Herbert
Other author posts
How We Were Introduced
—for perfidious protectorsI was playing in the street no one paid attention to me as I made forms out of sand mumbling Rimbaud under my breath once an elderly gentleman overheard it —little boy you are a poet just now we are organizing a grass-roo...
The Last Attack To Klaus
Permit me to open by expressing joy and wonder that we're marching at the head of our companies in different uniforms under a different command but with a single aim—to survive You say to me—look here we should probably let these boys go home to t...
I Would Like To Describe
I would like to describe the simplest emotion joy or sadness but not as others do reaching for shafts of rain or sun I would like to describe a light which is being born in me but I know it does not resemble any star for it is not so bright not so...
The Envoy Of Mr Cogito
Go where those others went to the dark boundaryfor the golden fleece of nothingness your last prizego upright among those who are on their kneesamong those with their backs turned and those toppled in the dustyou were saved not in order to liveyou...
