On the Pleasures of Kamienska (Part 3)


ON THE THRESHOLD OF THE POEM
By Anna Kamienska

On the threshold of the poem shake off the dust
the powder of hate from your soul
set aside passion
so as not to defile words

Into this space step alone
and the tenderness of things will enfold you
and lead you toward the dark
as if you had lost worldly sight

There whatever was named will return
and stand in the radiance so you and I
can find each other
like two trees that were lost in fog

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