Thursday, September 12, 2013

Try to Praise The Mutilated World

This poem comes via Mary Karr on 9/11. 

Try To Praise The Mutilated World
Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June's long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You've seen the refugees heading nowhere,
you've heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth's scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the grey feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.
-- Adam Zagajewski
Translated by Renata Gorczynski


Wally B said...


Katherine C. James said...


Reading this poem is as calming as a meditation.

Recently it has been difficult, but I keep trying to "praise the mutilated world." In spite of everything, I believe in the worth and meaning of "the gentle light that strays and vanishes and returns."

Thank you for reminding me of its existence.

(Your new blog photograph is wonderful. I love the dusty pink and grey and black.)