Poetry
Spring 2001
Reality Requires
From the Polish. Reality requiresthat we speak of these things: life rolls on, near Cannae, and Borodino, in Kosovo, Guernica. A petrol station stands on a little Jericho square: in […]
Poetry
Spring 2001
Atlantis
From the Polish. They existed—or not— on an island, or no-island: sea, or no-sea, swallowed them up—or not. Was there anyone to love? anyone to fight? Everything happened, or […]
Poetry
Spring 2001
Cat in an Empty Apartment
From the Polish. Die—you can't do that to a cat. What is it to do, the cat, in an empty apartment, but climb the walls, and rub against the […]
Poetry
Spring 2001
Three Words Most Strange
From the Polish. As I utter the word Future, the first syllable has already slipped into the past. As I utter the word Silence, I shatter it. As […]
Poetry
Spring 2001
The Silence of Plants
From the Polish. The one-sided acquaintance between me, and you, is proceeding, in a way. I know every leaflet, every petal, ear, cone, stalk; your cycles of life—your […]
Poetry
Spring 2001
Conversation with a Stone
From the Polish. I knock on the stone's door. —It's me, let me in. I want to come inside, look all around; breathe you in. —Go away—says […]