How Wonderful by Tadeusz Różewicz
How Wonderful
Tadeusz Różewicz
Translated by Joanna TrzeciakHow wonderful I can pick
berries in the woods
I thought
there were no woods or berries.How wonderful I can stretch out
in the shadow of a tree
I thought trees
no longer gave shade.How wonderful I am with you
my heart is beating fast
I thought human beings
had no heart.
MARGINALIA
1.
How many times have we declared the world empty, only to stumble into sweetness again. Every time I do I am astonished.
2.
Have you always known this? How our capacity for wonder could be restored, berry by berry?
3.
After enough burning, I assumed everything was ash. I forgot that trees keep doing what trees do, regardless of our despair.
4.
How wonderful I am with you. The present tense of this.
KEEP READING
SHARED WITH GRATITUDE
This poem appeared in Sobbing Superpower: Selected Poems of Tadeusz Różewicz by Tadeusz Różewicz, published by W.W. Norton & Company, 2011. (Available on: Amazon • Bookshop)
DESCRIPTION
“Widely held to be the most influential Polish poet of a generation that includes Czeslaw Milosz and Wislawa Szymborska, Tadeusz Rózewicz gives voice in the sharpest, most disturbing way to the crisis of values that has plagued our civilization. Joanna Trzeciak’s new translation displays Rózewicz’s supernatural simplicity, his stark diction and sudden turns.” (Source)
ABOUT TADEUSZ RóżEWICZ
Tadeusz Różewicz, born October 9, 1921, was a Polish Modernist poet who authored numerous books, including the cross-genre Mother Departs (Stork Press, 2013), which was awarded the 2000 Nike Prize, Poland’s most prestigious literary award. Różewicz, one of Poland’s most distinguished poets, was also the recipient of the Prix Européen de Littérature, among other international honors. He died in Wrocław, Poland on April 24, 2014. (Source)
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ENDNOTES
- Read more translations by Joanna Trzeciak • Or view more translated poems
- Explore other works in pursuit of: world • gratitude • trees • Or browse the index
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Ola Kraszpulska
Working on my version of a writers sketchbook and this is my favorite poem, so I thought I’d translate. Love yours, here’s mine:
How lovely I can
pick berries in the woods
I thought
There’s no woods or berries
How lovely I can
rest in the shade of a tree
I thought trees
No longer cast a restful shade
How lovely I am with you
my hear beats so
I thought man
no longer had a heart