I do not have the spring because
is back.
not blame her because it fulfills every year as
his duties.
I understand that my sadness will not stop the green.
The blade of grass, if varied,
is just the wind. Do not make me suffer
that the islets of alder Water
have that again with rustling. I note that
the shore of a lake
remained as if you lived-yet-
beautiful as it was. I have no grudge
Against the view to the view of the bay
dazzled by the sun.
I can even imagine
that of others, do not we sit right now
overturned on the trunk of a birch tree.
I respect their right to whisper, laugh and be silent
happy.
I suppose even the love that unites them and that he
string
her with his live arm.
Some young wing
rustles in the rushes.
sincerely wish them to hear.
I do not demand any change
waves close to shore,
hours leste now
lazy and do not obey me.
do not expect anything from deep waters near
the forest
hours emerald, sapphire
hours
black hours.
One thing I do not agree.
On my return there. The privilege of the presence
-
I give up.
We are only survived and only
enough to think from a distance. Wislawa Szymborska
0 comments:
Post a Comment