Anna Swir

Anna Swir Poems

She was an evil stepmother.
In her old age she is slowly dying
in an empty hovel.
...

You will not tame this sea
either by humility or rapture.
But you can laugh
in its face.
...

She is sixty. She lives
the greatest love of her life.

She walks arm-in-arm with her dear one,
...

Great humility fills me,
great purity fills me,
I make love with my dear
...

The Best Poem Of Anna Swir

She Does Not Remember

She was an evil stepmother.
In her old age she is slowly dying
in an empty hovel.

She shudders
like a clutch of burnt paper.
She does not remember that she was evil.
But she knows
that she feels cold.


Translated from the Polish by Czeslaw Milosz and Leonard Nathan

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