Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE JOY OF WRITING, by WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA Poem Explanation Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Where is the written doe headed, through these written woods Last Line: Revenge of a mortal hand Subject(s): Writing & Writers | ||||||||
Where is the written doe headed, through these written woods? To drink from the written spring that copies her muzzle like carbon paper? Why is she raising her head, does she hear something? Perched on four legs borrowed from the truth she pricks up her ears from under my fingertips. Silence -- even this word rustles across the page and parts the branches stemming from the word woods. Above the blank page, poised to pounce, lurk letters, which might spell trouble, penning sentences from which there will be no escape. There is, in an ink drop, a goodly supply of hunters, eyes winked, ready to charge down this steep pen, circle the doe, and sight their guns. They forget there is no life here. Different laws, black and white, hold sway. The blink of an eye will last as long as I want, allowing division into little eternities full of bullets stopped in mid-flight. Nothing would happen forever here if I said so. Not even a leaf will fall without my go-ahead, nor will a blade of grass bend under the full stop of the hoof. Then is there such a world where I wield fate unfettered? A time I bind with strings of signs? Existence without end at my command? The joy of writing. The prospect of preserving. Revenge of a mortal hand. Copyright © Joanna Trzeciak. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CELL, SELECTION by LYN HEJINIAN OXOTA: A SHORT RUSSIAN NOVEL: CHAPTER 126: THE DOUBTING MAN by LYN HEJINIAN WAKING THE MORNING DREAMLESS AFTER LONG SLEEP by JANE HIRSHFIELD COMPULSIVE QUALIFICATIONS by RICHARD HOWARD DEUTSCH DURCH FREUD by RANDALL JARRELL LET THEM ALONE by ROBINSON JEFFERS ON BUILDING WITH STONE by ROBINSON JEFFERS ON DEATH, WITHOUT EXAGGERATION by WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA |
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