Czeslaw Milosz Quotes - Page 4

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• A weak human mercy walks in the corridors of hospitals and is like a half-thawed winter.

  Czeslaw Milosz

  Winter, Half, Mercy

  "Before Majesty" by Czesław Miłosz, 1978.

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• And if there is no lining to the world? If a thrush on a branch is not a sign, But just a thrush on the branch? If night and day Make no sense following each other?

  Czeslaw Milosz

  Night, Branches, World

  Czeslaw Milosz, “Meaning”

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• Forget the suffering You caused others. Forget the suffering Others caused you. The waters run and run, Springs sparkle and are done, You walk the earth you are forgetting.

  Czeslaw Milosz

  Running, Spring, Water

  Czeslaw Milosz, “Forget”

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• I liked beaches, swimming pools, and clinics for there they were the bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. I pitied them and myself, but this will not protect me. The word and the thought are over.

  Czeslaw Milosz

  Beach, Swimming, Flesh

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• Consciousness even in my sleep changes primary colors. The features of my face melt like a wax doll in the fire. And who can consent to see in the mirror the mere face of man?

  Czeslaw Milosz

  Sleep, Men, Fire

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• I have no wisdom, no skills, and no faith but I received strength, it tears the world apart. I shall break, a heavy wave, against its shores and a young wave will cover my trace.

  Czeslaw Milosz

  Skills, Tears, World

  "Hymn" by Czeslaw Milosz, 1935.

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• I knew that I would speak in the language of the vanquished No more durable than old customs, family rituals, Christmas tinsel, and once a year the hilarity of carols.

  Czeslaw Milosz

  Years, Hilarity, Language

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• I am not my own friend.Time cuts me in two.

  Czeslaw Milosz

  Cutting, Two, End Times

  Czeslaw Milosz (2017). “Selected and Last Poems 1931-2004”, p.133, Penguin UK

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• From life, from the apple cut by the flaming knife,
  what grain will be saved?
  My son, believe me, nothing remains,
  Only adult toil,
  the furrow of fate in the palm.
  Only toil,
  Nothing more.

  Czeslaw Milosz

  Believe, Fate, Son

  "Rescue". Book by Czeslaw Milosz, 1945.

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• All was taken away from you: white dresses, wings, even existence.

  Czeslaw Milosz

  Taken, Wings, White

  Czeslaw Milosz, “On Angels”

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