Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Wisława Szymborska

Quote by Wisława Szymborska

Work

View with a Grain of Sand: Selected Poems

This compilation showcases the author's poetic prowess, capturing the essence of life's complexities and beauty in succinct, evocative verses. more

Author

Wisława Szymborska

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Wisława Szymborska. more

You May Also Like

“There's nothing more debauched than thinking. This sort of wantonness runs wild like a wind-borne weed on a plot laid out for daisies. Nothing's sacred for those who think. Calling things brazenly by name, risque analyses, salacious syntheses, frenzied, rakish chases after the bare facts, the filthy fingering of touchy subjects, discussion in heat--it's music to their ears.”

“Golden Things" Oh, he promised me rings... and golden things, And a house looking over the sea... But I never said once, to that boy at my side, That all I wanted was him... next to me... He gave me his dreams, his exalted schemes, Of the hopes that he planned to make true, But I never said once, to that boy trying so- That my love, demanded no clue... He gave what he could... and I took what I should... And our days, were long and green... But I never said once, to the boy wanting me- That it was love, gave life its sheen... How the years wash away... Like the waves in the Bay... Love for him, is a game to play For his dreams became things- And his schemes were the means, Of making every wish come my way... But I lost him somewhere... as he climbed up the stair... Where's the boy my man used to be? With his rings on my hands- and his gold shining 'round... I'm alone in my house by the sea For I should have said once- to this man that I loved... That all I wanted... was him... loving me.”

“The Shadow Waltz by Stewart Stafford She lays with me by night, Hewn from dark solitude, Without malice aforethought. Creaking springs as she crawls to me, In a frantic state, Babbling desperately about her pain. Nails caress my abdomen and chest, Strange warmth emanates from her, Then she rises. And is gone, Melting with the corner darkness again, Watching my slumber from the shadows. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”