Wislawa Szymborska Books
Showing 1-10 of 10

by (shelved 2 times as wislawa-szymborska)
avg rating 4.55 — 1,021 ratings — published 2009

by (shelved 1 time as wislawa-szymborska)
avg rating 4.00 — 1 rating — published 1998

by (shelved 1 time as wislawa-szymborska)
avg rating 4.33 — 5,298 ratings — published 1995

by (shelved 1 time as wislawa-szymborska)
avg rating 4.47 — 249 ratings — published

by (shelved 1 time as wislawa-szymborska)
avg rating 4.46 — 490 ratings — published 2007

by (shelved 1 time as wislawa-szymborska)
avg rating 4.56 — 1,080 ratings — published 1981

by (shelved 1 time as wislawa-szymborska)
avg rating 4.20 — 10 ratings — published

by (shelved 1 time as wislawa-szymborska)
avg rating 4.42 — 3,555 ratings — published 1998

by (shelved 1 time as wislawa-szymborska)
avg rating 4.22 — 2,202 ratings — published 2009

by (shelved 1 time as wislawa-szymborska)
avg rating 4.15 — 453 ratings — published 1996

“We have a soul at times.
No one’s got it non-stop,
for keeps.
Day after day,
year after year
may pass without it.
Sometimes
it will settle for awhile
only in childhood’s fears and raptures.
Sometimes only in astonishment
that we are old.
It rarely lends a hand
in uphill tasks,
like moving furniture,
or lifting luggage,
or going miles in shoes that pinch.
It usually steps out
whenever meat needs chopping
or forms have to be filled.
For every thousand conversations
it participates in one,
if even that,
since it prefers silence.
Just when our body goes from ache to pain,
it slips off-duty.
It’s picky:
it doesn’t like seeing us in crowds,
our hustling for a dubious advantage
and creaky machinations make it sick.
Joy and sorrow
aren’t two different feelings for it.
It attends us
only when the two are joined.
We can count on it
when we’re sure of nothing
and curious about everything.
Among the material objects
it favors clocks with pendulums
and mirrors, which keep on working
even when no one is looking.
It won’t say where it comes from
or when it’s taking off again,
though it’s clearly expecting such questions.
We need it
but apparently
it needs us
for some reason too.”
―
No one’s got it non-stop,
for keeps.
Day after day,
year after year
may pass without it.
Sometimes
it will settle for awhile
only in childhood’s fears and raptures.
Sometimes only in astonishment
that we are old.
It rarely lends a hand
in uphill tasks,
like moving furniture,
or lifting luggage,
or going miles in shoes that pinch.
It usually steps out
whenever meat needs chopping
or forms have to be filled.
For every thousand conversations
it participates in one,
if even that,
since it prefers silence.
Just when our body goes from ache to pain,
it slips off-duty.
It’s picky:
it doesn’t like seeing us in crowds,
our hustling for a dubious advantage
and creaky machinations make it sick.
Joy and sorrow
aren’t two different feelings for it.
It attends us
only when the two are joined.
We can count on it
when we’re sure of nothing
and curious about everything.
Among the material objects
it favors clocks with pendulums
and mirrors, which keep on working
even when no one is looking.
It won’t say where it comes from
or when it’s taking off again,
though it’s clearly expecting such questions.
We need it
but apparently
it needs us
for some reason too.”
―
“Non so agli altri –
per essere felice e infelice
a me basta e avanza questo:
una dimessa provincia
dove anche le stelle sonnecchiano
e ammiccano nella sua direzione
non significativamente.
Il ballo (da "La gioia di scrivere")”
―
per essere felice e infelice
a me basta e avanza questo:
una dimessa provincia
dove anche le stelle sonnecchiano
e ammiccano nella sua direzione
non significativamente.
Il ballo (da "La gioia di scrivere")”
―