So Much
How hard
to save a person
who loves
I always feel
your slender arm
heavy as a body
It runs through my fingers
like water
Your breath
my pallor
and care
How hard
to save a person
who trusts
I bend over your sorrow
I lift the weight of love
I lift you from earth in my arms
carry you on my lips
give you up to prayer
On the Repatriation of
Bruno Jasienski's Remains
When the thaw reached
the Far North
the poet's body emerged
from under the ice cap
his grave so shallow
body only half buried
a daisy in one ear
a little grass in the other
but taken all in all
he was in very good shape
so they freshened him up
wiped the mold from his lips
blew on him and slapped him
doused him with jasmine
farewell dear poet
off to your fatherland
his fatherland is happy
the academy overjoyed
no one says they killed him
they all say: he came back
they scream and shout
the crowd lifts him up
so you see my old pal
no need for living legs
at the author's evening
obedient comrades
whip him into shape
make blustery threats
and attached to his strings
the poet steps up to the mic
a little stiff but confident
he wants to read his poems
His hand in his wig
his voice makes the megaphone squeal
he grunts and gestures
and they all say: he's so alive
the poem ends with a shriek
he raises a hand and screams
the string snaps and the arm
drops woodenly on the table
so as to erase the image
the cry goes up: long life
and presidium and poet
go off to have a drink
his wife is at the reception
but she behaves differently
when looking at her husband
she sobs into a handkerchief
champagne caviar oysters
pineapples and wine
poor man no more will you
drink water or feed on clay
but the poet eats nothing
doesn't even clink glasses
pale he goes off to one side
begins to wind his shroud
but no one notices this
alcohol flows like a stream
and it's only near dawn
they yell: he's gone and died again
________________________
Zbigniew Herbert
Reconstruction of the poet
Ecco, 2024
Translated by Alissa Valles
