So Little

So Little

Hope
A Poem for the End of the Century
Ars poetica?
No More
So Little
Meaning
The Emperor Constantine

I said so little.
Days were short.

Short days.
Short nights.
Short years.

I said so little.
I couldn’t keep up.

My heart grew weary
From joy,
Despair,
Ardor,
Hope.

The jaws of Leviathan
Were closing upon me.

Naked, I lay on the shores
Of desert islands.

The white whale of the world
Hauled me down to its pit.

And now I don’t know
What in all that was real.

Berkeley, 1969

translated by Czesław Miłosz and Lillian Vallec

AuthorCzesław Miłosz
2018-08-21T17:23:24+00:00 September 1st, 2004|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 38|0 Comments