It’s good you came—she says.
You heard a plane crashed on Thursday?
Well so they came to see me
The story is he was on the passenger list.
So what, he might have changed his mind.
They gave me some pills so I wouldn’t fall apart.
Then they showed me I don’t know who.
All black, burned except one hand.
A scrap of shirt, a watch, a wedding ring.
I got furious, that can’t be him.
He wouldn’t do that to me, look like that.
The stores are bursting with those shirts.
The watch is just a regular old watch.
And our names on that ring,
they’re only the most ordinary names.
It’s good you came. Sit here beside me.
He really was supposed to get back Thursday.
But we’ve got so many Thursdays left this year.
I’ll put the kettle on for tea.
I’ll wash my hair, then what,
try to wake up from all this.
It’s good you came, since it was cold there,
and him just in some rubber sleeping bag,
him, I mean, you know, that unlucky man.
I’ll put the Thursday on, wash the tea,
since our names are completely ordinary—
Wislawa Szymborska's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Identification by Wislawa Szymborska )
Poem of the Day
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- Heather Burns
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
John Greenleaf Whittier
(17 December 1807 – 7 September 1892)