I was saddened to hear that Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska passed away yesterday. She was 88 years old, and died in her sleep of lung cancer. Szymborska won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1996, though I only discovered her a few years ago. I've posted some of her work before ( here, here, here, and here), and here's another of hers that has been ( Read more... )

if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)have ( Read more... )

( Arous’d and angry, I’d thought to beat the alarum, and urge relentless war, But soon my fingers fail’d me, my face droop’d and I resign’d myself,
To sit by the wounded and soothe them, or silently watch the dead )

( Lot's Daughter Dreams Of Her Mother )

The buzzard never says it is to blame ( Read more... )

Against the day of sorrow
Lay by some trifling thing
A smile, a kiss, a flower
For sweet remembering.

Then when the day is darkest
Without one rift of blue
Take out your little trifle
And dream your dream anew.

Trifle by Georgia Douglas Johnson

From A Litany for Survival
by Audre Lorde

[W]hen the sun rises we are afraid ( Read more... )

A "Thank You" Note
by Wislawa Szymborska (as translated by Joanna Trzeciak)

There is much I owe ( Read more... )

Lot's Wife
by Anna Akhmatova (as translated by Richard Wilbur)

The just man followed then his angel guide ( Read more... )