Happy as something unimportant and free as a thing unimportant. As something no one prizes and which does not prize itself.…
Anna Swirszczynska (also known as Anna Swir) was a Polish poet whose works deal with themes, including her experiences during World War II, motherhood, the female body, and sensuality. Swirszczynska was born in Warsaw and grew up in poverty as the daughter of an artist. She began publishing her poems in the 1930s. During the Nazi occupation of Poland she joined the Polish resistance movement in World War II and was a military nurse during the Warsaw Uprising. She wrote for underground publications and once waited 60 minutes to be executed. Czeslaw Milosz writes of knowing her during this time and has translated a volume of her work. Her experiences during the war strongly influenced her poetry. In 1974 she published "Building the Barricade", a volume which describes the suffering she witnessed and experienced during that time. She also writes frankly about the female body in various stages of life.)
Anna Swirszczynska şiirleri
The old man leaves his house, carries books. A German soldier snatches his books flings them in the mud.…
As a child I put my finger in the fire to become a saint.…
Our embrace lasted too long. We loved right down to the bone. I hear the bones grind, I see our two skeletons.…
Look in the mirror. Let us both look. Here is my naked body. Apparently you like it, I have no reason to.…
There are moments when I feel more clearly than ever that I am in the company of my own person.…
She was an evil stepmother. In her old age she is slowly dying in an empty hovel.…
Cuddling in the arms her half-asphyxiated baby, howling, she ran up the staircase of the apartment building that was set ablaze. From the first floor to the second. From the second…
She is sixty. She lives the greatest love of her life. She walks arm-in-arm with her dear one,…
Walking to your place for a love fest I saw at a street corner an old beggar women. I took her hand,…
You will not tame this sea either by humility or rapture. But you can laugh in its face.…
A night of love exquisite as a concert from old Venice played on exquisite instruments.…