Here

Here

<P>An exciting collection of poems by Wislawa Szymborska. When <I>Here</I> was published in Poland, reviewers marveled, “How is it that she keeps getting better?” These twenty-seven poems, as rendered by prize-winning translators Clare Cavanagh and Stanislaw Baranczak, are among her greatest ever. Whether writing about her teenage self, microscopic creatures, or the upsides to living on Earth, she remains a virtuoso of form, line, and thought. <BR><BR>From the title poem: <BR><BR>I can’t speak for elsewhere, <BR>but here on Earth we’ve got a fair supply of everything. <BR>Here we manufacture chairs and sorrows, <BR>scissors, tenderness, transistors, violins, teacups, dams, and quips . . . <BR><BR>Like nowhere else, or almost nowhere, <BR>you’re given your own torso here, <BR>equipped with the accessories required <BR>for adding your own children to the rest. <BR>Not to mention arms, legs, and astonished head. <BR><BR><BR></P><BR><P></P><BR><P><DIV></DIV><DIV></DIV>