they show me words
they say
the scent of roses can be found in a word
but all I find is paper paper and more paper neither
fragrance
nor color
and I know that a spray of sparks
when workers are welding streetcar rails
while we stand around two ten-year-old boys and I
that spray of sparks
means light much more
than the word light
and when my friend paralyzed in a wheelchair
bites off a piece of bread I hand to him
the way he bends his head
the movement of his jaws
have more life in them
than the word life
Garden Bloggers' Muse Day is hosted kindly by Carolyn Gail at Sweet Home and garden Chicago.
9 comments:
That's a lovely poem, Ewa - and a beautiful photoof roses!
/Katarina
Thank you, Ewa, for introducing me to a poet I didn't know before. The poem says a lot about the impossible but necessary struggle to make real meaning from mere words. I shall look for more poems by Halina Poswiatowska.
Beautiful roses and beautiful poem. Dziekuje,
A lovely poem, I will have to look for more from this poet. Thank you for sharing this...
I love poems, and I love this one...as well as the the yellow rose (with or without fragrance!).
Have a nice Sunday, Ewa!
Barbara
I'd love to know how it sounded in Polish! It reminds me a bit of William Carlos Williams - very simple but profound
I like this poem Ewa. I can't smell with words. Sometimes I can see with words though. I love your photo of yellow roses. My favorite rose are the yellow ones. Maybe because I don't see them as much as the red ones.
Thank you for posting this poem. I'm not familiar with her work. Is this rose from your garden? Have a great day! :-)
Hi Ewa, this is the first time I have visited your blog. I found Poswiatowska's Wikipedia biography very interesting. What a short and tragic life and such an influential figure. I can almost feel her bitterness in the sharp words.
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