Granted, in daily speech, where we don't stop to consider every word, we all use phrases like "the ordinary world," "ordinary life," "the ordinary co… - Wisława Szymborska

But in the language of poetry, where every word is weighed, nothing is usual or normal. Not a single stone and not a single cloud above it.

We all use phrases such as ‘the ordinary world,’ ‘ordinary life,’ ‘the ordinary course of events.’ But in the language of poetry, nothing is usual or normal. Not a single stone and not a single cloud above it. Not a single day and not a single night after it. And above all, not a single existence, not anyone’s existence in this world.

NIŠTA DVAPUT

Dvaput se ništa ne događa
niti će se dogoditi. Zbog toga
neuvežbani smo se rodili
i nerutinski pomrećemo.

Makar učenici
najgluplji u školi sveta bili,
nijednu zimu ni leto
nećemo ponavljati.

Nijedan dan se neće ponoviti,
dve slične noći ne postoje,
ni dva ista poljupca,
ni dva jednaka pogleda u oči.

Juče, kada ime tvoje
neko kraj mene glasno izgovori,
bi mi kao da ruža
kroz otvoren prozor pade.

Danas, kada smo zajedno,
okrenula sam lice ka zidu.
Ruža? Kako izgleda ruža?
Da li je to cvet? A možda je kamen?

Zbog čega se, trenu crni,
s nepotrebnom zebnjom mešaš?
Postojiš - prema tome moraš proći.
Proći - prema tome to je lepo.

Nasmejani, zagrljeni,
pokušavamo sklad da nađemo,
iako se kao dve kapi čiste vode
razlikujemo.

The joy of writing.
The power of preserving.
Revenge of a mortal hand.

One more comment from the heart: I’m old fashioned and think that reading books is the most glorious pastime that humankind has yet devised. Homo Ludens dances, sings, produces meaningful gestures, strikes poses, dresses up, revels and performs elaborate rituals. I don’t wish to diminish the significance of these distractions-without them human life would pass in unimaginable monotony and possibly dispersion and defeat. But these are group activities above which drifts a more or less perceptible whiff of collective gymnastics. Homo Ludens with a book is free. At least as free as he’s capable of being. He himself makes up the rules of the game, which are subject only to his own curiosity. He’s permitted to read intelligent books, from which he will benefit, as well as stupid ones, from which he may also learn something. He can stop before finishing one book, if he wishes, while starting another at the end and working his way back to the beginning. He may laugh in the wrong places or stop short at words he’ll keep for a life time. And finally, he’s free-and no other hobby can promise this-to eavesdrop on Montaigne’s arguments or take a quick dip in the Mesozoic.