Thursday, April 16, 2015

This World







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It appears that it was all a misunderstanding.
What was only a trial run was taken seriously.

The rivers will return to their beginnings
The wind will cease in its turning about.

Trees instead of budding will tend to their roots
Old men will chase a ball, a glance in the mirror—
They are children again.

The dead will wake up, not comprehending.
Till everything that happened has unhappened.

What a relief! 
Breathe freely, you who suffered so much.


Czesław Miłosz
New and Collected Poems (1931-2001)
translated by Robert Hass




 
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