Sunday, May 20, 2007
(reading) from Zbigniew Herbert * :
Pebble
The pebble is a perfect creature
equal to itself mindful of its limits
filled exactly with a pebbly meaning
with a scent which does not remind one of anything does not frighten anything away does not arouse desire
its ardor and coldness are just and full of dignity
I feel a heavy remorse when I hold it in my hand and its noble body is permeated by false warmth
--Pebbles cannot be tamed to the end they will look at us with a calm and very clear eye
(translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Peter Dale Scott)
* Poetry of Our World, ed. Jeffrey Paine (Perennial, 2000) p 255
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