Czeslaw Milosz Poems
|41.||My Faithful Mother Tongue||3/23/2012|
|45.||One More Contradiction||3/23/2012|
|50.||Statue Of A Couple||1/3/2003|
|51.||Study Of Loneliness||1/3/2003|
|52.||The Dining Room||3/23/2012|
|53.||The Rising Of The Sun||3/23/2012|
|56.||To Mrs. Professor In Defense Of My Cat's Honor And Not Only||4/21/2010|
|59.||What Does It Mean||1/3/2003|
|60.||Where The Sun Rises And Where It Sets||3/23/2012|
|64.||You Who Wronged||4/21/2010|
|65.||You Whose Name||3/23/2012|
Child Of Europe
We, whose lungs fill with the sweetness of day.
Who in May admire trees flowering
Are better than those who perished.
We, who taste of exotic dishes,
And enjoy fully the delights of love,
Are better than those who were buried.
We, from the fiery furnaces, from behind barbed wires
On which the winds of endless autumns howled,
We, who remember battles where the wounded air roared in
paroxysms of pain.
We, saved by our own cunning and knowledge.
By sending others to the more exposed positions
Urging them loudly to fight ...
In fear and trembling, I think I would fulfill my life
Only if I brought myself to make a public confession
Revealing a sham, my own and of my epoch:
We were permitted to shriek in the tongue of dwarfs and
But pure and generous words were forbidden
Under so stiff a penalty that whoever dared to pronounce one
Considered himself as a lost man.