Wislawa Szymborska Quote

Psalm How leaky are the borders of man-made states!How many clouds float over them scot-free,how much desert sand sifts from country to country,how many mountain pebbles roll onto foreign turfin provocative leaps! Need I cite each and every bird as it flies,or alights, as now, on the lowered gate?Even if be a sparrow—its tail is abroad,Though its beak is still home. As if that weren’t enough—it keeps fidgeting! Out of countless insects I will single out the ant,who, between the guard’s left and right boots,feels unobliged to answer questions of origin and destination. If only this whole mess could be seen at once in detailon every continent!Isn’t that a privet on the opposite banksmuggling its hundred-thousandth leaf across the river?Who else but the squid, brazenly long-armed,would violate the sacred territorial waters.? How can we speak of any semblance of orderwhen we can’t rearrange the starsto know which one shines for whom? Not to mention the reprehensible spreading of fog!Or the dusting of the steppe over its entire rangeas though it weren’t split in two!Or voices carried over accommodating air waves:summoning squeals and suggestive gurgles!

Wislawa Szymborska

Psalm How leaky are the borders of man-made states!How many clouds float over them scot-free,how much desert sand sifts from country to country,how many mountain pebbles roll onto foreign turfin provocative leaps! Need I cite each and every bird as it flies,or alights, as now, on the lowered gate?Even if be a sparrow—its tail is abroad,Though its beak is still home. As if that weren’t enough—it keeps fidgeting! Out of countless insects I will single out the ant,who, between the guard’s left and right boots,feels unobliged to answer questions of origin and destination. If only this whole mess could be seen at once in detailon every continent!Isn’t that a privet on the opposite banksmuggling its hundred-thousandth leaf across the river?Who else but the squid, brazenly long-armed,would violate the sacred territorial waters.? How can we speak of any semblance of orderwhen we can’t rearrange the starsto know which one shines for whom? Not to mention the reprehensible spreading of fog!Or the dusting of the steppe over its entire rangeas though it weren’t split in two!Or voices carried over accommodating air waves:summoning squeals and suggestive gurgles!

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About Wislawa Szymborska

Maria Wisława Anna Szymborska (Polish: [viˈswava ʂɨmˈbɔrska]; 2 July 1923 – 1 February 2012) was a Polish poet, essayist, translator, and recipient of the 1996 Nobel Prize in Literature. Born in Prowent (now part of Kórnik in west-central Poland), she resided in Kraków until the end of her life. In Poland, Szymborska's books have reached sales rivaling prominent prose authors, though she wrote in a poem, "Some Like Poetry" ("Niektórzy lubią poezję"), that "perhaps" two in a thousand people like poetry.
Szymborska was awarded the 1996 Nobel Prize in Literature "for poetry that with ironic precision allows the historical and biological context to come to light in fragments of human reality". She became better known internationally as a result. Her work has been translated into many European languages, as well as into Arabic, Hebrew, Japanese, Persian and Chinese.