Wislawa Szymborska Quote

ClassifiedsWHOEVER’S found out what locationcompassion (heart’s imagination)can be contacted at these days,is herewith urged to name the place;and sing about it in full voice,and dance like crazy and rejoicebeneath the frail birch that appearsto be upon the verge of tears.I TEACH silencein all languagesthrough intensive examination of:the starry sky,the Sinanthropus’ jaws,a grasshopper’s hop,an infant’s fingernails,plankton,a snowflake.I RESTORE lost love.Act now! Special offer!You lie on last year’s grassbathed in sunlight to the chinwhile winds of summers pastcaress your hair and seemto lead you in a dance.For further details, write: Dream.WANTED: someone to mournthe elderly who diealone in old folks’ homes.Applicants, don’t send formsor birth certificates.All papers will be torn,no receipts will be issuedat this or later dates.FOR PROMISES made by my spouse,who’s tricked so many with his sweetcolors and fragrances and sounds–dogs barking, guitars in the street–into believing that they stillmight conquer loneliness and fright,I cannot be responsible.Mr. Day’s widow, Mrs. Night.

Wislawa Szymborska

ClassifiedsWHOEVER’S found out what locationcompassion (heart’s imagination)can be contacted at these days,is herewith urged to name the place;and sing about it in full voice,and dance like crazy and rejoicebeneath the frail birch that appearsto be upon the verge of tears.I TEACH silencein all languagesthrough intensive examination of:the starry sky,the Sinanthropus’ jaws,a grasshopper’s hop,an infant’s fingernails,plankton,a snowflake.I RESTORE lost love.Act now! Special offer!You lie on last year’s grassbathed in sunlight to the chinwhile winds of summers pastcaress your hair and seemto lead you in a dance.For further details, write: Dream.WANTED: someone to mournthe elderly who diealone in old folks’ homes.Applicants, don’t send formsor birth certificates.All papers will be torn,no receipts will be issuedat this or later dates.FOR PROMISES made by my spouse,who’s tricked so many with his sweetcolors and fragrances and sounds–dogs barking, guitars in the street–into believing that they stillmight conquer loneliness and fright,I cannot be responsible.Mr. Day’s widow, Mrs. Night.

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