Czeslaw Milosz

(30 June 1911 – 14 August 2004 / Kedainiai)

Czeslaw Milosz Poems

41. Meaning 1/8/2004
42. Late Ripeness 1/13/2003
43. Study Of Loneliness 1/3/2003
44. Magpiety 1/3/2003
45. On Prayer 1/8/2004
46. Lake 1/13/2003
47. Artificer 1/20/2003
48. A Task 1/13/2003
49. Forget 1/13/2003
50. Father Explains 1/3/2003
51. A Hall 1/8/2004
52. Account 1/13/2003
53. In Black Despair 1/13/2003
54. Dedication 1/3/2003
55. Campo Di Fiori 1/3/2003
56. And Yet The Books 1/8/2004
57. I Sleep A Lot 1/3/2003
58. At A Certain Age 1/3/2003
59. A Poem For The End Of The Century 1/3/2003
60. Conversation With Jeanne 1/3/2003
61. Encounter 1/20/2003
62. Ars Poetica? 1/20/2003
63. Love 1/3/2003
64. Child Of Europe 2/2/2004
65. Incantation 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Czeslaw Milosz

Incantation

Human reason is beautiful and invincible.
No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books,
No sentence of banishment can prevail against it.
It establishes the universal ideas in language,
And guides our hand so we write Truth and Justice
With capital letters, lie and oppression with small.
It puts what should be above things as they are,
Is an enemy of despair and a friend of hope.
It does not know Jew from Greek or slave from master,
Giving us the estate of the world to manage.
It saves austere and transparent phrases
From the filthy discord of tortured ...

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A Task

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
demons
But pure and generous words were forbidden
Under so stiff a penalty that whoever dared to pronounce one
Considered himself as a lost man.

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