black
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Nothing’s a gift, it’s all on loan.

Wislawa Szymborska

Something doesn’t start at its usual time. Something doesn’t happen as it should. Someone was always, always here, then suddenly disappeared and stubbornly stays disappeared.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Disappear Start Stay Stubborn Time
Generally speaking, life is so rich and full of variety; you have to remember all the time that there is a comical side to everything.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Comic Remember Rich Talk Variety Yourself
Animals don’t even try to look any different from what nature intended. They humbly wear their shells, scales, spines, plumes, pelts, and down. The conscious impulse to change one’s appearance is found only among humans.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Animal Appearance Conscious Different Human Oneself Try
Loveless work, boring work, work valued only because others haven’t got even that much, however loveless and boring – this is one of the harshest human miseries.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Boredom Human Love Misery Work
I like being near the top of a mountain. One can’t get lost here.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Lost Mountain Myself Nature Oneself Place
All the best have something in common, a regard for reality, an agreement to its primacy over the imagination.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Agreement Best Common Imagination Reality Regard
Carry on, then, if only for the moment that it takes a tiny galaxy to blink!
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Blink Carry Funny Galaxy Moments
No day copies yesterday, no two nights will teach what bliss is in precisely the same way, with precisely the same kisses.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Bliss Kiss Past Teaching Time Way
Poetic talent doesn’t operate in a vacuum. There is a spirit of Polish poetry.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Operate Poet Spirit Talent
Somewhere out there the world must have an end.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Cosmos End Space World
I started earning a living as a poet rather early on.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Live Myself Poet Start
After every war someone has to tidy up.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Clean Deep Hurt War
There’s simply too much fuss about myself.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Confusion Mess Myself Simplicity
I’m one-time-only to the marrow of my bones.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Bone Myself Time
I slide my arm from under the sleeper’s head and it is numb, full of swarming pins, on the tip of each, waiting to be counted, the fallen angels sit.
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Angel Count Head Myself Sleep
What does the world get from two people/who exist in a world of their own?
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA

Existence People World

Nothing’s a gift, it’s all on loan.

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Nothing’s a gift, it’s all on loan.

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