“- Everything's finished. Riders gallop black horses, a tyrant composes a sentence of death with grammatical errors. Youth dissolves in a day; girls' faces freeze into medallions, despair turns to rapture and the hard fruits of stars in the sky… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share
Clear moments are so short. There is much more darkness. More ocean than terra firma. More shadow than form. — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
“But where do we find what's lasting? Where do the deathless things hide?” — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
Once in a while it vanishes - in the sense that I become deaf to beauty for a week or two or three. This coming and going of the inner life - because this is what it is - is a curse and a blessing. I don't need to explain why it's a curse. A blessing because it brings about… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share
“Epithalamium Without silence there would be no music. Life paired is doubtless more difficult than solitary existence - just as a boat on the open sea with outstretched sails is trickier to steer than the same boat drowsing at a dock, but schooners after all are meant for wind and motion, not idleness and impassive quiet. A conversation continued through… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share
“- Everything's finished. Riders gallop black horses, a tyrant composes a sentence of death with grammatical errors. Youth dissolves in a day; girls' faces freeze into medallions, despair turns to rapture and the hard fruits of stars in the sky ripen like grapes, and beauty endures, shaken, unperturbed, and God is and God dies; night returns to us in the… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share
Gabriel Levin's book is a journey through time and through entrenched animosities of the Middle East. What's astonishing and refreshing is his ability to combine the reporter's perspective with a deep knowledge of poetry, including pre-Islamic Arab poems. A brilliant poet is at work here-a poet in the rugged landscape of conflict and pain. — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share
Read for yourselves, read for the sake of your inspiration, for the sweet turmoil in your lovely head. But also read against yourselves, read… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
Cities at daybreak are no one's, and have no names. And I, too, have no name, dawn, the stars growing pale, the train picking… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
“Read for yourselves, read for the sake of your inspiration, for the sweet turmoil in your lovely head. But also read against yourselves, read… — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
This day's nothingness as if from spite became a flame and scorched the lips of children and poets. — Adam Zagajewski Copy Share Image
