Wislawa Szymborska - A Word on Statistics...

by Wislawa Szymborska

Out of every hundred people

those who always know better:
fifty-two.

Unsure of every step:
nearly all the rest.

Ready to help,
as long as it doesn't take long:
forty-nine.

Always good,
because they cannot be otherwise:
four--well, maybe five.

Able to admire without envy:
eighteen.

Led to error
by youth (which passes):
sixty, plus or minus.

Those not to be messed with:
forty and four.

Living in constant fear
of someone or something:
seventy-seven.

Capable of happiness:
twenty-some-odd at most.

Harmless alone,
turning savage in crowds:
more than half, for sure.

Cruel
when forced by circumstances:
it's better not to know
not even approximately.

Wise in hindsight:
not many more
than wise in foresight.

Getting nothing out of life but things:
thirty
(although I would like to be wrong).

Doubled over in pain,
without a flashlight in the dark:
eighty-three,
sooner or later.

Those who are just:
quite a few at thirty-five.

But if it takes effort to understand:
three.

Worthy of empathy:
ninety-nine.

Mortal:
one hundred out of one hundred--
a figure that has never varied yet.

(trans. from the Polish by Joanna Trzeciak)

Cross posted at The Middle of Nowhere

A Poem

Having done fragment of poetry for my last two posts, I decided to post one I wrote. It's not political, but what the hell...

requiem

bury me if you would
in a shroud,
that my brothers and sisters,
the worms and microbes,
may enfold my body back into the earth,

that one day
a little girl
squatting before a gaily colored flower
will lean forward to inhale its scent
and in doing so,
will inhale my spirit.

Eulogy for Falwell

Been waiting and waiting
Craving inspiration
Seeking to eulogize
With mounting frustration
A man whose crass actions
Divided the nation.
But lacking in outrage
His death no sensation,
In place of expected,
Sought after elation
I'm feeling a kind of
low-impact deflation,
And so just perhaps I'll
Give in to temptation
Reflect for a moment
On Falwell's vocation.

Seems that the crackpots
From Westboro Baptist
Will try for a Lynchburg
Pre-funeral protest.
They're going to preach
That Falwell expressed
Not nearly enough of
The hate they attest
Christ has for gays, women,
Blacks, Jews, and the rest.

And so with the scum of
Topeka I find
We are quite ironically
Of the same mind
Agreeing that Falwell
Will not find salvation
But is quite more likely
In line for damnation.

They say you shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but I can't help but feel that the world will be a better place without Jerry Falwell in it. The funeral's tomorrow, and many GOP luminaries are planning on skipping it.

In Memoriam, Jerry Falwell

Anthem

It's not Bethlehem on an ass
I do. It's not the eye
upon the sparrow
I know.

The long history of man and god
from castle keep to carpet bomb
is not my battle hymn.
My eyes have not seen the glory.

Say
can you see
the way the prophet
jerks like a marionette.
No strings attached.

First published in My Will and Testament Is on the Desk (FootHills Publishing)