Treasure Island

Czeslaw Milosz

(30 June 1911 – 14 August 2004 / Kedainiai)

The Dining Room


A room with low windows, with brown shades,
Where a Danzig clock keeps silent in the corner;
A low leather sofa; and right above it
The sculpted heads of two smiling devils;
And a copper pan shows its gleaming paunch.

On the wall a painting that depicts winter.
A crowd of people skate on ice
Between the trees, smoke comes from a chimney,
And crows fly in an overcast sky.

Nearby a second clock. A bird sits inside.
It pops out squawking and calls three times.
And it has barely finished its third and last call
When mother ladles out soup from a hot tureen.

Submitted: Friday, March 23, 2012

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Dining Room by Czeslaw Milosz )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Violation, Tiku akp
  2. So Much Depends Upon, Frank Avon
  3. Forgotten of the Foot, Anne Stevenson
  4. तेरे हाथों की मेहदी... ere hathonki, hasmukh amathalal
  5. Captive Without Bars, Anuradha Bhattacharyya
  6. False Flowers, Anne Stevenson
  7. Birth is a bubble burst with death., Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
  8. Not love alone, hasmukh amathalal
  9. The friends, gajanan mishra
  10. Elegy: In Coherent Light, Anne Stevenson

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]