Ilya Kaminsky

“I will praise your madness, andin a language not mine, speakof music that wakes us, musicin which we move. For whatever I sayis a kind of petition, and the darkestdays must I praise.”

“One would think of a boy layingsyllables with his tongueonto a woman’s skin: those are linessewn entirely of silence.”

“But in the secret history of anger--one man's silence / lives in the bodies of others.”

“A Ballad of Going Down to the StoreFirst I went down to the streetby means of the stairs, just imagine it, by means of the stairs. Then people known to people unknownpassed me by and I passed them by. Regretthat you did not seehow people walk,regret!I entered a complete store:lamps of glass were glowing. I saw somebody - he sat down - and what did I hear? what did I hear? rustling of bags and human talk. And indeed,indeed,I returned. --Miron Bialoszewski (Poland, 1922-1983)”

“Author's PrayerIf I speak for the dead, I mustleave this animal of my body,I must write the same poem over and overfor the empty page is a white flag of their surrender.If I speak of them, I must walkon the edge of myself, I must live as a blind manwho runs through the rooms withouttouching the furniture.Yes, I live. I can cross the streets asking "What yearis it?"I can dance in my sleep and laughin front of the mirror.Even sleep is a prayer, Lord,I will praise your madness, andin a language not mine, speakof music that wakes us, musicin which we move. For whatever I sayis a kind of petition and the darkest daysmust I praise.”