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| Polish-American Poet Czeslaw Milosz |
When I die, I will see the lining of the world.
The other side, beyond bird, mountain, sunset.
The true meaning, ready to be decoded.
What never added up will add Up,
What was incomprehensible will be comprehended.
- And if there is no lining to the world?
If a thrush on a branch is not a sign,
But just a thrush on the branch? If night and day
Make no sense following each other?
And on this earth there is nothing except this earth?
- Even if that is so, there will remain
A word wakened by lips that perish,
A tireless messenger who runs and runs
Through interstellar fields, through the revolving galaxies,
And calls out, protests, screams.
This poem is a moving paen of optimism in the face of world fraught with troubles and uncertainty. A spiritual ballast of faithfulness, even rebuffing the common cynicism of many who disdain a greater Reality than the current world we live in.
Czeslaw Milozs, a Polish Catholic who joined the Resistance agains the Nazi Occupation, originally wrote this poem in his native language. Originally titled with the French word "sens", which conveys a rich set of meanings, Milosz later translated his work into English.
Before treating his work, a few comments about the original title of the poem will evoke the richness of meaning which the poem unfolds. "Sens" in French means "meaning", "sense", "direction", and "judgment."
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