2 min read
Слушать(AI)Our Fear
Our fear does not wear a night shirt does not have owl’s eyes does not lift a casket lid does not extinguish a candle does not have a dead man’s face either our fear is a scrap of paper found in a pocket ‘warn Wójcik the place on Dluga Street is hot’ our fear does not rise on the wings of the tempest does not sit on a church tower it is down-to-earth it has the shape of a bundle made in haste with warm clothing provisions and arms our fear does not have the face of a dead man the dead are gentle to us we carry them on our shoulders sleep under the same blanket close their eyes adjust their lips pick a dry spot and bury them not too deep not too shallow
Zbigniew Herbert
Zbigniew Herbert (29 October 1924 – 28 July 1998) was a Polish poet, essayist, drama writer and moralist. He is one of the best known and the mo
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Pebble
The pebbleis a perfect creatureequal to itselfmindful of its limitsfilled exactlywith a pebbly meaningwith a scent that does not remind one of anythingdoes not frighten anything away does not arouse desireits ardour and coldnessare just and full o...
A Ballad That We Do Not Perish
Those who sailed at dawnbut will never returnleft their trace on a wave—a shell fell to the bottom of the seabeautiful as lips turned to stonethose who walked on a sandy roadbut could not reach the shuttered windowsthough they already saw the roof...
Nothing Special
nothing specialboards paintnails pastepaper stringmr artistbuilds a worldnot from atomsbut from remnantsforest of ardenfrom umbrellaionian seafrom parkers quinkjust as long ashis look is wisejust as long ashis hand is sure -and presto the world -h...
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...
