Zbigniew Herbert

(29 October 1924 – 28 July 1998 / Lvov)

Our Fear - Poem by Zbigniew Herbert

Our fear
does not wear a night shirt
does not have owl’s eyes
does not lift a casket lid
does not extinguish a candle

does not have a dead man’s face either

our fear
is a scrap of paper
found in a pocket
‘warn Wójcik
the place on Dluga Street is hot’


our fear
does not rise on the wings of the tempest
does not sit on a church tower
it is down-to-earth


it has the shape
of a bundle made in haste
with warm clothing
provisions
and arms


our fear
does not have the face of a dead man
the dead are gentle to us
we carry them on our shoulders
sleep under the same blanket


close their eyes
adjust their lips
pick a dry spot
and bury them


not too deep
not too shallow


Comments about Our Fear by Zbigniew Herbert

  • Sebastian Dobryziom (1/9/2017 6:04:00 AM)

    I want to take part in a school competition but i need some information about the author of this translation. Can you help me please ? (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Poem Edited: Monday, May 9, 2011


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