Zbigniew Herbert was, along with Nobel Prize winners Czeslaw Milosz and Wanda Symborska, one of the leading Polish poets of the second half of the twentieth century. He confronted the violence and anxiety of the modern world with an extraordinary combination of classical reference and ironic gaze: yet his poetry is immensely accessible. In a modern and post-modern world which seems confusing to many, Herbert stands out: his honesty and clarity are perhaps unparalleled among poets. He would be my choice as the most under-appreciated poet of our times. To read Herbert is to encounter a voice that is unforgettable: it is like visiting a whole new continent!
To explore the poetry of Zbigniew Herbert, click on this photograph of him.
Herbert was born in 1924 in Lvov, which was then in eastern Poland but is currently in the Ukraine.
Four of his books of poetry have been translated into English:
Elegy for the Departure, 1993
Mr. Cogito, 1993
Report from the besieged city & other poems, 1985
Selected poems, 1977
Three books of essays have also been translated:
King of the Ants: Mythological Essays, 1999
Still Life With a Bridle : Essays and Apocryphas, 1993
Barbarian in the Garden, 1986
POEMS by ZBIGNIEW HERBERT
These poems, and others by Herbert, are found at http://redfrog.norconnect.no/~poems/poets/herbert.html
which is managed by the Polish Academic Information Center at the State University of New York, Buffalo.
Pebble
by Zbigniew HerbertThe pebble
is a perfect creatureequal to itself
mindful of its limitsfilled exactly
with a pebbly meaningwith a scent that does not remind one of anything
does not frighten anything away does not arouse desireits ardour and coldness
are just and full of dignityI feel a heavy remorse
when I hold it in my hand
and its noble body
is permeated by false warmth– Pebbles cannot be tamed
to the end they will look at us
with a calm and very clear eye
Translated by Peter Dale Scott and Czeslaw Milosz
Why the Classics
by Zbigniew Herbert1
in the fourth book of the Peloponnesian War
Thucydides tells among other things
the story of his unsuccessful expeditionamong long speeches of chiefs
battles sieges plague
dense net of intrigues of diplomatic endeavours
the episode is like a pin
in a forest
the Greek colony Amphipolis
fell into the hands of Brasidos
because Thucydides was late with relieffor this he paid his native city
with lifelong exileexiles of all times
know what price that is2
generals of the most recent wars
if a similar affair happens to them
whine on their knees before posterity
praise their heroism and innocencethey accuse their subordinates
envious collegues
unfavourable windsThucydides says only
that he had seven ships
it was winter
and he sailed quickly3
if art for its subject
will have a broken jar
a small broken soul
with a great self-pitywhat will remain after us
will it be lovers’ weeping
in a small dirty hotel
when wall-paper dawnsTranslated by Peter Dale Scott and Czeslaw Milosz
The Envoy of Mr Cogito
by Zbigniew HerbertGo where those others went to the dark boundary
for the golden fleece of nothingness your last prizego upright among those who are on their knees
among those with their backs turned and those toppled in the dustyou were saved not in order to live
you have little time you must give testimonybe courageous when the mind deceives you be courageous
in the final account only this is importantand let your helpless Anger be like the sea
whenever your hear the voice of the insulted and beatenlet you sister Scorn not leave you
for the informers executioners cowards – they will win
they will go to your funeral with relief will throw a lump of earth
the woodborer will write your smoothed-over biographyand do not forgive truly it is not in your power
to forgive in the name of those betrayed at dawnbeware however of unnecessary pride
keep looking at your clown’s face in the mirror
repeat: I was called – weren’t there better ones than Ibeware of dryness of heart love the morning spring
the bird with an unknown name the winter oak
light on a wall the splendour of the sky
they don’t need your warm breath
they are there to say: no one will console yoube vigilant – when the light on the mountains gives the sign- arise and
go
as long as blood turns in the breast your dark starrepeat old incantations of humanity fables and legends
because this is how you will attain the good you will not attain
repeat great words repeat them stubbornly
like those crossing the desert who perished in the sandand they will reward you with what they have at hand
with the whip of laughter with murder on a garbage heapgo because only in this way you will be admitted to the company of cold
skulls
to the company of your ancestors: Gilgamesh Hector Roland
the defenders of the kingdom without limit and the city of ashesBe faithful Go
translated by John Carpenter & Bogdana Carpenter