Oh, Silly Tangled Webs
The Last Fortnight

Poetic Excerpt

Sorry I've fallen behind in my blogging. Life has been so full, I haven't taken time to sit down and write about it. Today I'll try to do some catching up. Until then, enjoy this excerpt from Czeslaw Milosz' The Separate Notebooks: A Mirrored Gallery.

Pure beauty, benediction: you are all I gathered
From a life that was biitter and confused,
In which I learned about evil, my own and not my own.
Wonder kept seizing me, and I recall only wonder,
Risings of the sun over endless green, a universe
Of grasses, and flowers opening to the first light,
Blue outline of the mountain and a hosanna shout.
I asked, how many times, is this the truth of the earth?
How can laments and curses be turned into hymns?
What makes you need to pretend, when you know better?
But the lips praised on their own, on their own the feet ran;
The heart beat strongly; and the tongue proclaimed its adoration.


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