Zbigniew Herbert

(29 October 1924 – 28 July 1998 / Lvov)

Zbigniew Herbert Poems

1. CO MYŚLI PAN COGITO O PIEKLE 7/24/2018
2. The Envoy of Mr. Cogito 7/24/2018
3. Episode 7/24/2018
4. How We Were Introduced 7/24/2018
5. I Would Like to Describe 7/24/2018
6. A Knocker 7/24/2018
7. The Last Attack. To Klaus 7/24/2018
8. What Our Dead Do 7/24/2018
9. What Our Dead Do 12/29/2011
10. The Fable About A Nail 12/29/2011
11. Wasp 12/29/2011
12. To My Bones 4/21/2010
13. Rovigo 12/29/2011
14. In A City 12/29/2011
15. Prayer Of Pan Cogito – Traveller 12/29/2011
16. Daedalus And Icarus 12/29/2011
17. The Power Of Taste 12/29/2011
18. The Rain 4/21/2010
19. The Tongue 12/29/2011
20. The Return Of The Proconsul 12/29/2011
21. Why The Classics 4/21/2010
22. Elegy Of Fortinbras 12/29/2011
23. An Answer 4/21/2010
24. Episode 4/21/2010
25. The Trial 1/3/2003
26. How We Were Introduced 4/21/2010
27. Report From Paradise 4/21/2010
28. First The Dog 4/21/2010
29. Our Fear 4/21/2010
30. Three Poems By Heart 1/3/2003
31. The Ardennes Forest 1/3/2003
32. A Halt 1/3/2003
33. About Troy 1/3/2003
34. A Knocker 1/3/2003
35. Lament 1/3/2003
36. A Description Of The King 1/3/2003
37. Objects 1/3/2003
38. Nothing Special 1/3/2003
39. A Russian Tale 1/3/2003
40. From The Top Of The Stairs 1/3/2003

Comments about Zbigniew Herbert

There is no comment submitted by members..
Best Poem of Zbigniew Herbert

Mr. Cogito And The Imagination

Mr. Cogito never trusted
tricks of the imagination

the piano at the top of the Alps
played false concerts for him

he didn't appreciate labyrinths
the Sphinx filled him with loathing

he lived in a house with no basement
without mirrors of dialectics

jungles of tangled images
were not his home

he would rarely soar
on the wings of metaphor
and then he fell like Icarus
into the embrace of the Great Mother

he adored tautologies
explanations
idem per idem

that a bird is a bird
slavery means slavery
a knife is a ...

Read the full of Mr. Cogito And The Imagination

A Knocker

There are those who grow
gardens in their heads
paths lead from their hair
to sunny and white cities

it's easy for them to write
they close their eyes
immediately schools of images
stream down their foreheads

[Report Error]