there will be no other end of the world
Mar. 18th, 2012 01:34 amWhy do clothing shops always have to be so warm? By the time you're trying on new clothes and staring into the mirror, you're flushed and already deciding that you look pink and unattractive. (And needing an exercise program, but let's not go into that.)
At least I have a new pair of jeans. Though I could wish they were a smaller size.
Other things going okay.
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A Song on the End of the World
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:
There will be no other end of the world,
There will be no other end of the world.
-- Czeslaw Milosz, translated by Anthony Milosz
At least I have a new pair of jeans. Though I could wish they were a smaller size.
Other things going okay.
---
A Song on the End of the World
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:
There will be no other end of the world,
There will be no other end of the world.
-- Czeslaw Milosz, translated by Anthony Milosz
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Date: 2012-03-18 02:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-18 01:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-18 01:09 pm (UTC)Ooh Czesław Miłosz... And that poem especially. o.O I didn't expect it.
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Date: 2012-03-18 01:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-18 11:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-18 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-18 02:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-18 09:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-19 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-19 12:47 am (UTC)