| About the book
Since the envoys had brought news of the arrival of the Emperor, Bolesław’s kingdom had been overwhelmed by an all-encompassing state of commotion. Aside from the settlers living deep within the deepest forests, there was probably no one who did not, in some way or other, (...)
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| | About the book
8
The phones are always going wrong, so my parents aren’t upset when there’s no dialling tone. They’re at the fortieth birthday party of a female friend from their class at high school. They say they’re going downstairs to the phone booth for a (...)
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Zbigniew HerbertElegy for the Departure
Zbigniew Herbert was without a doubt one of the most distinguished poets of the post-War period. In his work, classical patterns emerge in a contemporary context; and humanist or Christian ideals collide with reality. His is an ironic poetry that often takes place against the background of the Polish twentieth century. Herbert's recent death may be counted on to spark a renewed interest in the West for this intellectually powerful and universally significant poetry. This is suggested above all by the publication in English translation of a new book of his verse, Elegy for the Departure and Other Poems, in 1999.
Elegy for the Departure of Pen, Ink and Lamp
1
Truly my betrayal is great and hard to forgive
for I do not even remember the day or hour
when I abandoned you friends of my childhood
first I humbly turn to you
pen with a wooden handle
covered with paint or brittle lacquer
in a Jewish shop
- steps creaking a bell at the glass door -
I chose you
in the color of laziness
and soon afterward you carried
on your body
the reveries of my teeth
traces of school torment
o silver nib
outlet of the critical mind
messenger of soothing knowledge
- that the globe is round
- that parallel lines never meet
in a box of the storekeeper
you were like a fish waiting for me
in a school of other fish
-I was astonished there were so many
completely mute objects
without owners -
then
mine forever
I put you respectfully in my mouth
and for a long time felt on my tongue
a taste of sorrel
and the moon
o ink
illustrious Mr. ink
of distinguished ancestry
highly born
like the at evening
for a long time drying
deliberate
and very patient
in wells we transformed you
into the Sargasso Sea
drowning in your wise depths
blotters hair secret oaths and flies
to block out the smell
of a gentle volcano
the call of the abyss
who members you today
dear companions
you left quietly
beyond the last cataract of time
who recalls you with gratitude
in the era of fatheaded hall-point pens
arrogant objects
without grace
name
or past
when I speak of you
I would like it to be
as if I were hanging an ex voto
on a shattered altar
2
light of my childhood
blessed lamp
sometimes in junk stores
I come upon
your disgraced body
and yet you were once
a bright allegory
a spirit stubbornly battling
with the demons of gnosis
wholly given to the eyes
in full sight
transparently simple
at the bottom of the found
kerosene - elixir or primeval forests
slick snake of a wick
with a blazing head
the slender maiden
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