Czeslaw Milosz (1911-2004) ranks among the most respected poets of the 20th century. Born in 1911 in Szetejnie, Lithuania, of partly Polish and partly Lithuanian parentage, he spent much of the Second World War in Warsaw, where he was active in the struggle against the Nazis. He left Poland in 1951 to live in France, followed by the US in 1960 where he became a tenured professor of Slavic languages and literature at the University of California at Berkeley. In 1980, he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.
I love Milosz’s poetry for the way he defines the tragedies and beauty of his age with unrivalled beauty, elegance and precision. Whether describing his early youth in Poland, the anguish of war-torn Warsaw or his personal search for religious meaning, his poems invariably shine through with the wonder, amazement and the sensuous detail of living, and the particular individuality of every life.
From his vast body of work, I’ve selected a few poems that give voice to his quest for spiritual meaning. To me, they are among the most sublime poems in his oeuvre and indeed, in all of 20th century English poetry.
EXCERPTS FROM “FAITH”
Faith is in you whenever you look
At a dewdrop or a floating leaf
And know that they are because they have to be.
Even if you close your eyes and dream up things
The world will remain as it has always been
And the leaf will be carried by the waters of the river.
EXCERPTS FROM “HOPE”
Hope is with you when you believe
The earth is not a dream but living flesh,
That sight, touch, and hearing do not lie,
That all things you have ever seen here
Are like a garden looked at from a gate.
Some people say we should not trust our eyes,
That there is nothing, just a seeming.
These are the ones who have no hope.
They think that the moment we turn away,
The world, behind our backs, ceases to exist,
As if snatched up by the hands of thieves.
“LOVE”
Love means to learn to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are only one thing among many.
And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
Without knowing it, from various ills –
A bird and a tree say to him: Friend.
Then he wants to use himself and things
So that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
It doesn’t matter whether he knows what he serves.
Who serves best doesn’t always understand.
“FEAR”
“Father, where are you? The forest is wild,
There are creatures here, the bushes sway.
The orchids burst with poisonous fire,
Treacherous chasms lurk under our feet.
“Where are you, Father? The night has no end.
From now on, darkness will last forever.
The travelers are homeless, they will die of hunger,
Our bread is bitter and hard as stone.
“The hot breath of the terrible beast
Comes near and nearer, it belches its stench.
Where have you gone, Father? Why do you not pity
Your children lost in this murky wood?”
