JAN TWARDOWSKI 1915 - 2006
The World
God hid himself so that the world could be seen if he'd made himself known there would only be him and who in his presence would notice the ant the handsome, peevish wasp worrying in circles the green drake with his yellow legs the peewit laying its four eggs crosswise the dragonfly's round eyes beans in the pod our mother at the table holding not so long ago a mug by its big funny ear the fir tree shedding husks instead of cones pain and delight both ways to learn equally mysteries but never the same stones which show travelers the way
love that is invisible hides nothing
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Hungry
My God is hungry he's just a bag of bones he's got no money no lofty silver domes
Candles can't help him hymns give him no rest doctors have no cure for his thin hollow chest
Governments patrols police are powerless love is the only food his lips will bless
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The Jesus of Nonbelievers
The Jesus of nonbelievers walks among us known a little from kitsch and a bit from word-of-mouth responsibly passed over in the morning paper defenseless partyless endlessly debated avoided like a graveyard for the victims of the plague necessarily gray therefore perfectly safe
the Jesus of nonbelievers walks among us sometimes he stops and stands like a hard cross
believers nonbelievers we'll all be joined by the unearned pain that leads us toward truth
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As It Must
You grasshopper with only one autumn to live you unloved loving heart you sadness just for the two who'll get their apartment in twenty years you happiness more or less you wounding truth you aunt on whose ID some kid has scrawled a beard you dignitary soon to be booted downstairs[]
all will be as it must
Translated by Stanislaw Baranczak & Clare Cavanagh
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