Poetry: Herbert Zbigniew - A ballad that we do not perish - A Description of the King - Bio Data - Links
Posted by Ricardo Marcenaro | Posted in Poetry: Herbert Zbigniew - A ballad that we do not perish - A Description of the King - Bio Data - Links | Posted on 21:49
A ballad that we do not perish
Those who sailed at dawn
but will never return
left their trace on a wave--
a shell fell to the bottom of the sea
beautiful as lips turned to stone
those who walked on a sandy road
but could not reach the shuttered windows
though they already saw the roofs--
they have found shelter in a bell of air
but those who leave behind only
a room grown cold a few books
an empty inkwell white paper--
in truth they have not completely died
their whisper travels through thickets of wallpaper
their level head still lives in the ceiling
their paradise was made of air
of water lime and earth an angel of wind
will pulverize the body in its hand
they will be
carried over the meadows of this world
Those who sailed at dawn
but will never return
left their trace on a wave--
a shell fell to the bottom of the sea
beautiful as lips turned to stone
those who walked on a sandy road
but could not reach the shuttered windows
though they already saw the roofs--
they have found shelter in a bell of air
but those who leave behind only
a room grown cold a few books
an empty inkwell white paper--
in truth they have not completely died
their whisper travels through thickets of wallpaper
their level head still lives in the ceiling
their paradise was made of air
of water lime and earth an angel of wind
will pulverize the body in its hand
they will be
carried over the meadows of this world
A Description of the King
The king's beard on which sauces and ovations
fell until it became heavy as an axe
appears suddenly in a dream to a man condemned to die
and on a candlestick of flesh shines alone in the dark.
One hand for tearing meat is huge as a whole province
through which a ploughman inches forward a corvette lingers
The hand wielding the sceptre has withered from distinction
has grown grey from old age like an ancient coin
In the hour-glass of the heart sand trickles lazily
Feet taken off with boots stand in a corner
on guard when at night stiiffening on the throne
the king heirlessly forfeits his third dimension
Poetry: Herbert Zbigniew - A ballad that we do not perish - A Description of the King - Bio Data - Links
Zbigniew Herbert - Wikipedia, la enciclopedia libre
es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zbigniew_HerbertZbigniew Herbert. De Wikipedia, la enciclopedia libre. Saltar a: navegación, búsqueda. Zbigniew Herbert. Zbigniew Herbert (1924-1998) fue un poeta polaco.Zbigniew Herbert - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zbigniew_HerbertZbigniew Herbert ['zbiɡɲɛf ˈxɛrbɛrt] ( listen) (29 October 1924 in Lwów [then Poland, now Lviv, Ukraine] – 28 July 1998 in Warsaw) was a Polish poet, ...
Ricardo M Marcenaro - Facebook
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