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greatpoetryStill life with a balloon
Returning memories?No, at the time of death I'd like to see lost objects return instead.
Avalanches of gloves, coats, suitcases, umbrellas-come, and I'll say at last: What good's all this?Safety pins, two odd combs, a paper rose, a knife, some string-come, and I'll say at last: I haven't missed you.Please turn up, key, come out, wherever you've been hiding,in time for me to say: You've gotten rusty, friend!
My watch, dropped in a river, bob upand let me sieze you- then, face to face, I'll say:Your so-called time is up. And lastly,toy balloon once kidnapped by the wind- come home,and I will say: There are no children here.
Fly out the open window and into the wide world;let someone else shout "Look!" and I will cry.
Wislawa Szymborszka
Returning memories?No, at the time of death I'd like to see lost objects return instead.
Avalanches of gloves, coats, suitcases, umbrellas-come, and I'll say at last: What good's all this?Safety pins, two odd combs, a paper rose, a knife, some string-come, and I'll say at last: I haven't missed you.Please turn up, key, come out, wherever you've been hiding,in time for me to say: You've gotten rusty, friend!
My watch, dropped in a river, bob upand let me sieze you- then, face to face, I'll say:Your so-called time is up. And lastly,toy balloon once kidnapped by the wind- come home,and I will say: There are no children here.
Fly out the open window and into the wide world;let someone else shout "Look!" and I will cry.
Wislawa Szymborszka
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