Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June’s long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees going nowhere,
you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the gray feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.

Source: Without End: New and Selected Poems ( Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2002 )

translated by Clare Cavanagh

Adam Zagajewski 🇵🇱 foi um poeta, romancista, tradutor e ensaísta polonês. Ele recebeu o Prêmio Internacional Neustadt de Literatura de 2004, o Prêmio Griffin de Poesia de Reconhecimento Vitalício de 2016, o Prêmio Princesa das Astúrias de Literatura de 2017 e a Coroa de Ouro de Poesia de 2018 nas Noites de Poesia de Struga.