Poems by Czeslaw Milosz

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The road led straight to the temple.
When everything was fine
In fear and trembling, I think I would fulfill my life
The history of my stupidity would fill many volumes.
And yet the books will be there on the shelves, separate beings,
I have always aspired to a more spacious form
Burning, he walks in the stream of flickering letters, clarinets,
We wanted to confess our sins but there were no takers.
In Rome on the Campo di Fiori
1
Let us not talk philosophy, drop it, Jeanne.
You whom I could not save
We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
"There where that ray touches the plain
Forget the suffering
I sleep a lot and read St. Thomas Aquinas
In grayish doubt and black despair,
Human reason is beautiful and invincible.
Maidenly lake, fathomless lake,
Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year,
Love means to learn to look at yourself
The same and not quite the same, I walked through oak forests
When I die, I will see the lining of the world.
All my life to pretend this world of theirs is mine
All was taken away from you: white dresses,
You ask me how to pray to someone who is not.
On the day the world ends
Your hand, my wonder, is now icy cold.
A guardian of long-distance conduits in the desert?
Where does evil come from?
It does not know it glitters
I looked out the window at dawn and saw a young apple tree
It is true, our tribe is similar to the bees,

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