On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.
On the day the world ends
Women walk through the fields under their umbrellas,
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.
And those who expected lightning and thunder
Are disappointed.
And those who expected signs and archangels' trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose,
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.
Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet
Yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
No other end of the world will there be,
No other end of the world will there be.
by Czeslaw Milosz (via poets.org)
& thanks to Kcecelia
2 comments:
Thank you for posting this poem, Bumble. I saw it the day you posted it, but forgot to comment. This poem is a new favorite. Czeslaw Milosz is a wonder. I've been rummaging around your blog a bit, reading a piece here and there; lots of lovely stuff. You write in a way that soothes the soul. I'd happily buy a book you wrote. xo.
And for me this poem is very close to the short piece from "Cat's cradle" by Vonnegut about the world's end.
It's good to see Milosz' poetry here :)
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