Poems of Wislawa Szymborska
|23.||The End and the Beginning||2/3/2012|
|24.||The Joy Of Writing||2/3/2012|
|25.||The Silence of Plants||2/3/2012|
|26.||Three Oddest Words||2/3/2012|
|29.||Under One Small Star||1/20/2003|
Hunger Camp At Jaslo
Write it. Write. In ordinary ink
on ordinary paper: they were given no food,
they all died of hunger. "All. How many?
It's a big meadow. How much grass
for each one?" Write: I don't know.
History counts its skeletons in round numbers.
A thousand and one remains a thousand,
as though the one had never existed:
an imaginary embryo, an empty cradle,