Monday, February 18, 2013

And Yet the Books

"And yet the books will still be there on the shelves, separate beings,
That appeared once, still wet,
As shining chestnuts under a tree in autumn,
And, touched, coddled, began to live
In spite of fires on the horizon, castles blown up,
Tribes on the march, planets in motion.
We are, they said, even as their pages
Were being torn out, or a buzzing flame
Licked away their letters. 
So much more durable
Than we are, whose frail warmth
Cools down with memory, disperses, perishes.
I imagine the earth when I am no more:
Nothing happens, no loss, it's still a strange pageant,
Women's dresses, dewy lilacs, a song in the valley.
Yet the books will be there on the shelves, well born,
Derived from people, but also from radiance, heights."

Czeslaw Milosz


  1. Love this poem -- as I love books and the comfort of all those other worlds and live, sitting on the shelf, awaiting my eyes to bring them to life.

  2. Victoria - never read that poem before - it is so lovely - with the Kindle and Nook - I hope there will still always be books on my shelf. Thanks for sharing.


Thank you for taking the time to leave a comment, I appreciate it!

Related Posts with Thumbnails