An exciting collection of poems by Wislawa Szymborska. When Here was published in Poland, reviewers marveled, “How is it that she keeps getting better?” These twenty-seven poems, as rendered by prize-winning translators Clare Cavanagh and Stanislaw Baranczak, are among her greatest ever. Whether writing about her teenage self, microscopic creatures, or the upsides to living on Earth, she remains a virtuoso of form, line, and thought.
From the title poem:
I can’t speak for elsewhere, but here on Earth we’ve got a fair supply of everything. Here we manufacture chairs and sorrows, scissors, tenderness, transistors, violins, teacups, dams, and quips . . .
Like nowhere else, or almost nowhere, you’re given your own torso here, equipped with the accessories required for adding your own children to the rest. Not to mention arms, legs, and astonished head.
From Booklist
No reader, not even poetry-phobes, should miss the bright revelations of Nobel laureate Szymborska. A Polish poet influenced by Czeslaw Milosz and annealed in her country’s suffering during WWII and Stalinsim, Szymborska writes pithy, mischievous, and wise poems that disarm, delight, and enlighten in a flash even as they illuminate hidden dimensions of existence. The poet marvels over the intricacy, immensity, secrecy, and vigor of life. In Microcosmos, she considers the miniscule entities a microscope reveals and wonders if they even know they are––or aren’t. In Thoughts That Visit Me on Busy Streets, Szymborska ponders nature’s recycling of faces, so that a passerby might be . . . some pharaoh with briefcase and glasses. She writes of her teenage self, the earth’s astounding bounty, accidents, nature’s innocence, and time. Szymborska is sharply ironic and lithely philosophical, pondering the phenomenal precision of dreams and the elusiveness of meaning. The neat, prancing lyrics collected in this slender, piercing book are delectable and profound. --Donna Seaman
Review
"No reader, not even poetry-phobes, should miss the bright revelations of Nobel laureate Szymborska. [...] Syzmborska is sharply ironic and lithely philosophical, pondering the phenomenal precision of dreams and the elusiveness of meaning. The neat, prancing lyrics collected in this slender, piercing book are delectable and profound." --Booklist
Description:
An exciting collection of poems by Wislawa Szymborska. When Here was published in Poland, reviewers marveled, “How is it that she keeps getting better?” These twenty-seven poems, as rendered by prize-winning translators Clare Cavanagh and Stanislaw Baranczak, are among her greatest ever. Whether writing about her teenage self, microscopic creatures, or the upsides to living on Earth, she remains a virtuoso of form, line, and thought.
From the title poem:
I can’t speak for elsewhere,
but here on Earth we’ve got a fair supply of everything.
Here we manufacture chairs and sorrows,
scissors, tenderness, transistors, violins, teacups, dams, and quips . . .
Like nowhere else, or almost nowhere,
you’re given your own torso here,
equipped with the accessories required
for adding your own children to the rest.
Not to mention arms, legs, and astonished head.
From Booklist
No reader, not even poetry-phobes, should miss the bright revelations of Nobel laureate Szymborska. A Polish poet influenced by Czeslaw Milosz and annealed in her country’s suffering during WWII and Stalinsim, Szymborska writes pithy, mischievous, and wise poems that disarm, delight, and enlighten in a flash even as they illuminate hidden dimensions of existence. The poet marvels over the intricacy, immensity, secrecy, and vigor of life. In Microcosmos, she considers the miniscule entities a microscope reveals and wonders if they even know they are––or aren’t. In Thoughts That Visit Me on Busy Streets, Szymborska ponders nature’s recycling of faces, so that a passerby might be . . . some pharaoh with briefcase and glasses. She writes of her teenage self, the earth’s astounding bounty, accidents, nature’s innocence, and time. Szymborska is sharply ironic and lithely philosophical, pondering the phenomenal precision of dreams and the elusiveness of meaning. The neat, prancing lyrics collected in this slender, piercing book are delectable and profound. --Donna Seaman
Review
"No reader, not even poetry-phobes, should miss the bright revelations of Nobel laureate Szymborska. [...] Syzmborska is sharply ironic and lithely philosophical, pondering the phenomenal precision of dreams and the elusiveness of meaning. The neat, prancing lyrics collected in this slender, piercing book are delectable and profound." --Booklist