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We call it a grain of sand, but it calls itself neither grain nor sand. It does just fine, without a name, whether general, particular, permanent, pa… - Wisława Szymborska
" "We call it a grain of sand,
but it calls itself neither grain nor sand.
It does just fine, without a name,
whether general, particular,
permanent, passing,
incorrect, or apt.
Our glance, our touch means nothing to it.
It doesn’t feel itself seen and touched.
And that it fell on the windowsill
is only our experience, not its.
For it, it is not different from falling on anything else
with no assurance that it has finished falling
or that it is falling still.
The window has a wonderful view of a lake,
but the view doesn’t view itself.
It exists in this world
colorless, shapeless,
soundless, odorless, and painless.
The lake’s floor exists floorlessly,
and its shore exists shorelessly.
The water feels itself neither wet nor dry
and its waves to themselves are neither singular nor plural.
They splash deaf to their own noise
on pebbles neither large nor small.
And all this beheath a sky by nature skyless
in which the sun sets without setting at all
and hides without hiding behind an unminding cloud.
The wind ruffles it, its only reason being
that it blows.
A second passes.
A second second.
A third.
But they’re three seconds only for us.
Time has passed like courier with urgent news.
But that’s just our simile.
The character is inverted, his hasts is make believe,
his news inhuman.
English
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About Wisława Szymborska
Wisława Szymborska-Włodek (2 July 1923 – 1 February 2012) was a Polish poet, essayist and translator. She was awarded the 1996 Nobel Prize in Literature. She was bestowed the title of Lady of the Order of the White Eagle in 2011. She was a member of the Polish Writers Association (1989) and the Polish Academy of Skills (1995).
Biography information from Wikiquote
Also Known As
Alternative Names:
Maria Wisława Anna Szymborska
•
Szymborska
•
Wislawa Szymborska
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هردو بر اين باورند
كه حسي ناگهاني آنها را به هم پيوند داده.
چنين اطميناني زيباست،
اما ترديد زيبا تر است.
چون قبلا همديگر را نمي شناختند،
گمان مي بردند هرگز چيزي ميان آنها نبوده.
اما نظر خيابان ها، پله ها و راهروهايي
كه آن دو مي توانسته اند از سال ها پيش
از كنار هم گذشته باشند، در اين باره چيست؟
دوست داشتم از آنها بپرسم
آيا به ياد نمي آورند
شايد درون دري چرخان
زماني روبروي هم؟
يك ببخشيد در ازدحام مردم؟
يك صداي اشتباه گرفته ايد در گوشي تلفن؟
- ولي پاسخشان را مي دانم.
- نه، چيزي به ياد نمي آورند.
بسيار شگفت زده مي شدند
اگر مي دانستند، كه ديگر مدت هاست
بازيچه اي در دست اتفاق بوده اند.
هنوز كاملا آماده نشده
كه براي آنها تبديل به سرنوشتي شود،
آنها را به هم نزديك مي كرد دور مي كرد،
جلو راهشان را مي گرفت
و خنده ي شيطانيش را فرو مي خورد و
كنار مي جهيد.
علائم و نشانه هايي بوده
هر چند ناخوانا.
شايد سه سال پيش
يا سه شنبه ي گذشته
برگ درختي از شانه ي يكيشان
به شانه ي ديگري پرواز كرده؟
چيزي بوده كه يكي آن را گم كرده
ديگري آن را يافته و برداشته.
از كجا معلوم توپي در بوته هاي كودكي نبوده باشد؟
دستگيره ها و زنگ درهايي بوده
كه يكيشان لمس كرده و در فاصله اي كوتاه آن ديگري.
چمدان هايي كنار هم در انبار.
شايد يك شب هر دو يك خواب را ديده باشند،
كه بلافاصله بعد از بيدار شدن محو شده.
بالاخره هر آغازي
فقط ادامه ايست
و كتاب حوادث
هميشه از نيمه ي آن باز مي شود.
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