MIRACLE FAIR
by Wislawa Szymborska
Commonplace miracle:
that so many commonplace miracles happen.
An ordinary miracle:
in the dead of night
the barking of invisible dogs.
One miracle out of many:
a small, airy cloud
yet it can block a large and heavy moon.
Several miracles in one:
an alder tree reflected in the water,
and that it’s backwards left to right
and that it grows there, crown down
and never reaches the bottom,
even though the water is shallow.
An everyday miracle:
winds weak to moderate
turning gusty in storms.
First among equal miracles:
cows are cows.
Second to none:
just this orchard
from just that seed.
A miracle without a cape and top hat:
scattering white doves.
A miracle, for what else could you call it:
today the sun rose at three-fourteen
and will set at eight-o-one.
A miracle, less surprising than it should be:
even though the hand has fewer than six fingers,
it still has more than four.
A miracle, just take a look around:
the world is everywhere.
An additional miracle, as everything is additional:
the unthinkable
is thinkable.
~ translated from the Polish by Joanna Trzeciak, from Miracle Fair: Selected Poems of Wislawa Szymborska (Norton, 2001).
Hands of God and Adam/The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo (Sistine Chapel, 1512)
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I marvel at this poem, Szymborska’s distilled wisdom.
Except for the first and final stanzas, each centers on a concrete image — a cloud, an orchard, white doves. We pause in wonder, delighted at the refreshing perspective.
Find that quiet moment in yourself, tilt your head and your thinking. From the seemingly simple, the profound.
Friday miracle: a poem written by someone you don’t even know can feel like it was written just for you.
Wishing you peace, joy, and light in this season of miracles. Happy second Sunday of Advent and Happy Hanukkah!
“White Doves” by catf
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Lovely and talented Patricia Franz is hosting the Roundup at Reverie. Be sure to check out the full menu of poetic goodness being shared around the blogosphere this week. Enjoy your weekend!
IN PRAISE OF DREAMS
by Wislawa Szymborska
In my dreams
I paint like Vermeer van Delft.
I speak fluent Greek
and not just with the living.
I drive a car
that does what I want it to.
I am gifted
and write mighty epics.
I hear voices
as clearly as any venerable saint.
My brilliance as a pianist
would stun you.
I fly the way we ought to,
i.e., on my own.
Falling from the roof,
I tumble gently to the grass.
I've got no problem
breathing under water.
I can't complain:
I've been able to locate Atlantis.
It's gratifying that I can always
wake up before dying.
As soon as war breaks out,
I roll over on my other side.
I'm a child of my age,
but I don't have to be.
A few years ago
I saw two suns.
And the night before last a penguin,
clear as day.
~ from Poems: New and Collected, 1957-1997, translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh (Ecco, 2000).
“Dreaming Girl” by Gilly Marklew.
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Dreams, whether fleeting daydreams, wish fulfillment night dreams, or long held desires — are important indicators of who we are, what we value, and sometimes they serve to motivate us to achieve certain life goals.
They’re also a fun way to consider the subconscious, unleash the imagination and verbalize the unbelievable.
Szymborska’s poem inspired California poet Gary Soto to write about his own dreams.
“Restraint 2 Cowboys Roping a Steer” by Don Langeneckert
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Szymborska seems to value artistic mastery as well as superhuman powers like flying and breathing under water, enabling her to face adversity, survive catastrophes and achieve a kind of immortality. She’s more philosophical and symbolic than Soto.
I like how Soto injects humor and a fond memory in his poem. His voice is conversational and accessible. Who can resist, “licking my fingertips,” the “snap judgement” of the alligator, or those “dolphins/Sitting in lawn chairs”? 🙂
Both express gratitude for their lives in lovely, distinctive ways.
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Of course I couldn’t help but think about my own dreams. Not only fun, but empowering. Fantasy makes life more bearable. Part of me says “impossible,” while the other part says, “why not?” Doesn’t writing make it so? 🙂
~ Maira Kalman (What Pete Ate from A-Z, 2003)
IN MY DREAMS
Sam Heughan begs invites me to live with him in Scotland.
I teleport myself to England at whim and the weather is always good.
I own Harrods.
The real Paddington Brown lives with us.
I am fluent in at least 10 different languages.
I live at the Plaza Hotel and join Eloise for tea in the Palm Court every week.
I bake the biggest, most delicious pie the world has ever seen and the people who eat it are deliriously happy for the rest of their lives.
My house cleans itself.
I inherit Maira Kalman’s inimitable talent.
Colin Firth and Paul McCartney have me on speed dial.
My singing is simply divine and I look good in hats.
I can leap tall buildings in a single bound – with my eyes closed.
I win a tango championship in Argentina with Robert Duvall.
Jackson Browne is a neighbor and whenever I pop over he sings for me.
Whenever I read a good book, I can step right into it and become any character I choose.
When Shakespeare, the Brontës, Louisa May Alcott, Laura Ingalls Wilder, and Michael Bond visit the Cornelius Rattigan Tea Room, we assure them they will be read and loved forever and ever.
I see my parents again.
There is no such thing as hate.
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Speaking of Vermeer:
Scarlett Johansson and Colin Firth in “Girl With a Pearl Earring” (2003).
What do you dream of?
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The lovely and talented Catherine Flynn is hosting the Roundup at Reading to the Core. Bounce over to check out the full menu of poetic goodness being served up around the blogosphere this week. Happy December!
Jama's Alphabet Soup 