13 Adam Zagajewski Quotes on A Defense of Ardor: Essays, Poetry and Empires - Quotes.pub

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POSMATRAM FOTOGRAFIJUPosmatram fotografiju grada u kome sam se rodio,njegove bujne bašte i krivudave ulice, brda,katoličke krovove i kupole pravoslavnih crkavau kojima nedeljom pevaju snažni basovi,od kojih se okolno drveće povija kao da divlja uragan;dugo posmatram tu fotografiju i ne mogu da odvojim pogled sa nje,odjednom počinjem da zamišljam da svi oni i dalje tu žive,kao da se ništa nije dogodilo, da neprestano trče na predavanja,čekaju voz, voze se plavim tramvajem,uznemireno gledaju u kalendar, staju na vagu,slušaju Verdijeve arije i omiljene operete,čitaju novine koje su još bele,žive u žurbi, u strahu, neprekidno kasneći,malčice su besmrtni, ali to ne znaju,neko od njih neuredno plaća kiriju, neko se boji sušice,neko ne može da završi raspravu o Kantovoj filozofiji,ni da shvati šta su stvari same po sebi,moja baka ponovo ide u Bžuhovice nosećitortu na ravnim ramenima koja se ne opuštaju,u apoteci stidljivi mladić traži lek protiv stidljivosti,devojka posmatra svoje male grudi u ogledalu,moj rođak izlazi u park odmah posle kupanjane sluteći da će uskoro dobiti zapaljenje pluća,ponekad puca oduševljenje, zimi žute lampestvaraju krug bliskosti, u julu muve bučno svetkujuveliku svetlost leta i pevuše mračne himne,događaju se pogromi, ustanci, deportacije,okrutni Vermaht u elegantnim uniformama,nailazi podli NKVD, crvene petokrakeobećavaju prijateljstvo, mada su znak izdaje,ali oni to ne vide, takoreći to ne vide,imaju toliko stvari da obave, trebanabaviti ugalj za zimu, naći dobrog lekara,rastu gomile pisama bez odgovora, bledi mrko mastilo,u sobi svira radio, najnovije parče nameštaja koje ćeemitovati muziku i loše vesti, ali oni suumorni od običnog života i običnog umiranja,nemaju ni za šta vremena, izvinjavaju se zbog toga,pišu dugačka pisma i lakonske razglednice,stalno kasne, beznadno kasne,kao i mi, baš kao i mi, kao i ja.

Unseen Hand: Poems Quotes

ZVONASklonićemo se u zvona, u raznjihanazvona, u huku, u vazduh, u srce zvonjave.Sklonićemo se u zvona i zaplovitiiznad zemlje u teškim vagonima. Iznad zemlje,iznad polja, tamo gde su livade koje nosemladi jasenovi i seoske crkve, u zaklonujutarnjih magli i šuma koje trče kao stadaantilopa; tamo gde potoci tiho pokrećuvodenice. Iznad zemlje, iznad livada,iznad bele rade, iznad klupe, na kojoj jeljubav urezala nesavršen znak, iznadvrbe poslušne hladnom vetru,iznad škole u kojoj uveče latinskereči razgovaraju jedne s drugim; iznad dubokogribnjaka, iznad Morskog Oka, iznad plačai iznad žalosti, iznad lornjona koji se presavijana suncu, iznad kalendaraispunjenih vremenom koji leže na dnu fiokespokojno kao grčke amfore u moru.Iznad granice, iznad tvog budnog pogleda,iznad nečije zenice, iznad zarđalog topa,iznad baštenske kapije koje više nema,iznad oblaka, iznad kiše koja pije rosu,iznad puža koji ne zna uz kakvu sestatuu penje, iznad brzog voza,koji ubrzano diše, iznad dečakakoji vezuje kravatu uoči školske priredbe,iznad gradskog parka, u kome još uvek ležinekad izgubljeni švajcarski perorez.Kad padne noć, sklonićemo seu zvona, u lake kočije,u bronzane balone.

Canvas: Poems Quotes

OLD MARX He can’t think. London is damp, in every room someone coughs. He never did like winter. He rewrites past manuscripts time and again, without passion. The yellow paper is fragile as consumption. Why does life race stubbornly toward destruction? But spring returns in dreams, with snow that doesn’t speak in any known tongue. And where does love fit within his system? Where you find blue flowers. He despises anarchists, idealists bore him. He receives reports from Russia, far too detailed. The French grow rich. Poland is common and quiet. America never stops growing. Blood is everywhere, perhaps the wallpaper needs changing. He begins to suspect that poor humankind will always trudge across the old earth like the local lunatic shaking her fists at an unseen God.

Eternal Enemies: Poems Quotes

USPAVANKANećeš zaspati danas. Toliko svetlosti u prozoru.Veštačke vatre rastu nad gradom.Nećeš zaspati, previše toga se dogodilo.Nad tobom bdiju knjige postrojene u redove.Dugo ćeš razmišljati o onome što se zbiloi nije se zbilo. Nećeš zaspati danas.Pobuniće se tvoji crveni kapci, oči će ti biti crvene i natečene,a srce naduveno od uspomena.Nećeš zaspati. Otvoriće se enciklopedijai iz nje izaći drevni pesnici, brižno obučeni,zaštićeni od hladnoće. Kao padobranOtvoriće se sećanje, iznenada zašištaće vazduh.Sećanje će se otvoriti i uopšte nećeš zaspati,ljuljaćeš se između oblaka,pokretan i jasan cilj, u svetlosti vatrometa.Više nikada nećeš zaspati, premnogo ti je ispričano, previše se zbilo.Svaka kap krvi mogla bi danapiše svoju skerletnu Ilijadu.Svako svitanje moglo bi da bude autormračnih uspomena. Nećeš zaspatiispod debelog jorgana krovova, tavana i dimnjakakoji bacaju uvis pregršt pepela. Bele noći tiho plove nebomi šušte vesla, svilene čarape.Izaći ćeš u park i granje će teblagonaklono udarati po ramenima,krizmajući te još jednom, kao da nisu sigurneu tvoju vernost. Nećeš zaspati.Trčaćeš kroz pusti park, postaćešsenka i susretaćeš druge senke. Razmišljaćešo nekom koga više nema i o nekomko živi tako intenzivno da se život na obalamapretvara u ljubav. Sve je više svetlostiu sobi. Danas nećeš zaspati.

Canvas: Poems Quotes

In my defense I haveonly silence, dew on the grass, a nightingaleamong the branches. You forgive it,its long tenure in the leaves of one aspenafter another, drops of eternity, gramsof amazement, and the sleepy complaints of the poor poets

Without End: New and Selected Poems Quotes

IMPOSSIBLE FRIENDSHIPS For example, with someone who no longer is, who exists only in yellowed letters. Or long walks beside a stream, whose depths hold hidden porcelain cups—and the talks about philosophy with a timid student or the postman. A passerby with proud eyes whom you’ll never know. Friendship with this world, ever more perfect (if not for the salty smell of blood). The old man sipping coffee in St.-Lazare, who reminds you of someone. Faces flashing by in local trains— the happy faces of travelers headed perhaps for a splendid ball, or a beheading. And friendship with yourself —since after all you don’t know who you are.

Eternal Enemies: Poems Quotes

Doubt is more intelligent than poetry, insofar as it tells malicious tales about the world, things we’ve long known but struggled to hide from ourselves. But poetry surpasses doubt, pointing to what we cannot know. Doubt is narcissistic; we look at everything critically, including ourselves, and perhaps that comforts us. Poetry, on the other hand, trusts the world, and rips us from the deep-sea diving suits of our “I”; it believes in the possibility of beauty and its tragedy. Poetry’s argument with doubt has nothing in common with the facile quarrel of optimism and pessimism. The twentieth century’s great drama means that we now deal with two kinds of intellect: the resigned and the seeking, the questing. Doubt is poetry for the resigned. Whereas poetry is searching, endless wandering. Doubt is a tunnel, poetry is a spiral. Doubt prefers to shut, while poetry opens. Poetry laughs and cries, doubt ironizes. Doubt is death’s plenipotentiary, its longest and wittiest shadow; poetry runs toward an unknown goal. Why does one choose poetry while another chooses doubt? We don’t know and we’ll never find out. We don’t know why one is Cioran and the other is Milosz.

A Defense of Ardor: Essays Quotes

But I was only a chaotic walker, nobody could stop me; even a totalitarian state was not able to control my daydreams, my poetic fascinations, the pattern of my walking.

Daydreaming Quotes Resistance Quotes Totalitarianism Quotes

A little rain, a little blood. Black fingernails in August; and going berserk, going bananas. As if entrapped in a tropical heatwave, with dozens of whirlwinds swirling in one’s mind, one thinks of a way out, or a way in: out of the scorching bosom of a volcano, and in – into the centre of a raging hurricane. And tracing the labyrinthine ways of your mind, the haphazard vagaries of your thoughts at ease, the odds and ends of your mental surplus you carelessly throw at the world, one wants to be at a loss, in a maze; amazed, and amazingly unabashed.

Prose poetry Quotes

Try to praise the mutilated world.Remember June’s long days,and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.The nettles that methodically overgrowthe abandoned homesteads of exiles.You must praise the mutilated world.You watched the stylish yachts and ships;one of them had a long trip ahead of it,while salty oblivion awaited others.You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere,You’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.You should praise the mutilated world.Remember the moments when we were togetherin a white room and the curtain fluttered.Return in thought to the concert where music flared.You gathered acorns in the park in autumnand leaves eddied over the earth's scars.Praise the mutilated worldand the gray feathers a thrush lost,and the gentle light that strays and vanishesand returns.

In summer the empire of insects spreads.

Summer Quotes / Empires Quotes Insects Quotes Poem Quotes Poetry Quotes

I drink from a small spring, my thirst exceeds the ocean.

Poetry Quotes Without End: New and Selected Poems Quotes

Read for yourselves, read for the sake of your inspiration, for the sweet turmoil in your lovely head. But also read against yourselves, read for questioning and impotence, for despair and erudition, read the dry sardonic remarks of cynical philosophers like Cioran or even Carl Schmitt, read newspapers, read those who despise, dismiss or simply ignore poetry and try to understand why they do it. Read your enemies, read those who reinforce your sense of what's evolving in poetry, and also read those whose darkness or malice or madness or greatness you can't understand because only in this way will you grow, outlive yourself, and become what you are.

Reading Quotes / A Defense of Ardor: Essays Quotes Literature Quotes Poetry Quotes