przeciwko kretyni

For example, with someone who no longer is,

who exists only in yellowed letters.

Or long walks beside a stream,

whose depths hold hidden

porcelain cups—and the talks about philosophy

with a timid student or the postman.

A passerby with proud eyes

whom you'll never know.

Friendship with this world, ever more perfect

(if not for the salty smell of blood).

The old man sipping coffee

in St.-Lazare, who reminds you of someone.

Faces flashing by

in local trains—

the happy faces of travelers headed perhaps

for a splendid ball, or a beheading.

And friendship with yourself

—since after all you don't know who you are.

Don't allow the lucid moment to dissolve

Let the radiant thought last in stillness

though the page is almost filled and the flame flickers

We haven't risen yet to the level of ourselves

Knowledge grows slowly like a wisdom tooth

The stature of a man is still notched

high up on a white door

From far off, the joyful voice of a trumpet

and of a song rolled up like a cat

What passes doesn't fall into a void

A stoker is still feeding coal into the fire

Don't allow the lucid moment to dissolve

On a hard dry substance

you have to engrave the truth

Adam Zagajewski

Troubled Water