Encounterby Czeslaw Milosz
English version by Czeslaw Milosz and Robert Hass
Original Language Polish
We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
A red wing rose in the darkness.
And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
One of us pointed to it with his hand.
That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive,
Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.
O my love, where are they, where are they going?
The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.
|-- from The Collected Poems, by Czeslaw Milosz|
|New and Collected Poems 1931 - 2001||The Collected Poems||Against Forgetting: Twentieth-Century Poetry of Witness||To Begin Where I Am: The Selected Prose of Czeslaw Milosz||A Treatise on Poetry|
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