Account Poem by Czeslaw Milosz
Account
The history of my stupidity would fill many volumes.
Some would be devoted to acting against consciousness,
Like the flight of a moth which, had it known,
Would have tended nevertheless toward the candle's flame.
Others would deal with ways to silence anxiety,
The little whisper which, though it is a warning, is ignored.
I would deal separately with satisfaction and pride,
The time when I was among their adherents
Who strut victoriously, unsuspecting.
But all of them would have one subject, desire,
If only my own -- but no, not at all; alas,
I was driven because I wanted to be like others.
I was afraid of what was wild and indecent in me.
The history of my stupidity will not be written.
For one thing, it's late. And the truth is laborious.
Berkeley, 1980.
Trans. Robert Hass and Robert Pinsky
Sometimes we act in haste without thinking when our enotion gets the better of us.
Beautifully crafted poem. Well translated. Extraordinary poet.
Massive talent, bold and searching himself for the truth of his importance and very existence. I believe the translators must have made an extraordinary effort to bring us his words. Excellent poet.
meri bavkoofi ki history se bady granth likhay ja saktay hain kuch hongay mere moorakh pan ke jasiay bhonray ko agar pata hai k jal jayay ga shama ke sholay main phir bhi wo uski taraf urta jaata hai kuch hongay chinta ko shanti danay ke baray hidayantay jinay main nay na sua -to be continued later if Allah allows
What a great poem! I certainly can relate. And what a great encouragement to embrace who we are. For those of you who read this and like great poetry anthologies in English, see the one he edited with the title A Book of Luminous Things. -GK
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 10:30:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Temperate musings about volatile emotions; calm and persuasive.