Czeslaw Milosz

(30 June 1911 – 14 August 2004 / Kedainiai)

Czeslaw Milosz Poems

1. Preface 3/23/2012
2. Veni Seer 3/23/2012
3. Theodicy 4/21/2010
4. Earth Again 3/23/2012
5. Raja Rao 3/23/2012
6. The Road 3/23/2012
7. By The Peonies 3/23/2012
8. Road-Side Dog 3/23/2012
9. To Mrs. Professor In Defense Of My Cat's Honor And Not Only 4/21/2010
10. The Dining Room 3/23/2012
11. You Whose Name 3/23/2012
12. An Hour 3/23/2012
13. It Was Winter 4/21/2010
14. Sarajevo 3/23/2012
15. Where The Sun Rises And Where It Sets 3/23/2012
16. One More Contradiction 3/23/2012
17. The Rising Of The Sun 3/23/2012
18. My Faithful Mother Tongue 3/23/2012
19. Christopher Robin 3/23/2012
20. And The City Stood In Its Brightness 2/20/2015
21. Faith 3/23/2012
22. You Who Wronged 4/21/2010
23. Annalena 3/23/2012
24. Hope 3/23/2012
25. In Warsaw 3/23/2012
26. Winter 4/21/2010
27. How It Was 4/21/2010
28. A Treatise On Poetry: Iv Natura 4/21/2010
29. City Without A Name 4/21/2010
30. Woe! 1/8/2004
31. Not Mine 1/1/2004
32. Window 1/3/2003
33. Statue Of A Couple 1/3/2003
34. What Does It Mean 1/3/2003
35. A Song On The End Of The World 4/21/2010
36. A Poor Christian Looks At The Ghetto 4/21/2010
37. A Felicitous Life 4/21/2010
38. A Magic Mountain 4/21/2010
39. Unde Malum 1/8/2004
40. On Angels 1/13/2003
Best Poem of Czeslaw Milosz

Incantation

Human reason is beautiful and invincible.
No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books,
No sentence of banishment can prevail against it.
It establishes the universal ideas in language,
And guides our hand so we write Truth and Justice
With capital letters, lie and oppression with small.
It puts what should be above things as they are,
Is an enemy of despair and a friend of hope.
It does not know Jew from Greek or slave from master,
Giving us the estate of the world to manage.
It saves austere and transparent phrases
From the filthy discord of tortured ...

Read the full of Incantation

Conversation With Jeanne

Let us not talk philosophy, drop it, Jeanne.
So many words, so much paper, who can stand it.
I told you the truth about my distancing myself.
I've stopped worrying about my misshapen life.
It was no better and no worse than the usual human tragedies.

For over thirty years we have been waging our dispute
As we do now, on the island under the skies of the tropics.
We flee a downpour, in an instant the bright sun again,

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