Some Like Poetry

Some -
thus not all. Not even the majority of all but the minority.
Not counting schools, where one has to,
and the poets themselves,
there might be two people per thousand.

Like -
but one also likes chicken soup with noodles,
one likes compliments and the color blue,
one likes an old scarf,
one likes having the upper hand,
one likes stroking a dog.

Poetry -
but what is poetry.
Many shaky answers
have been given to this question.
But I don't know and don't know and hold on to it
like to a sustaining railing.

Translated by Regina Grol

by Wislawa Szymborska

Comments (18)

Lovely words from the father of three motherless children. Goes so well with 'The Children's Hour' by the same author
I can't remember reading poems EVER that have elicited such a brilliant endorphin rush as Children and Christmas Bells. Merry Christmas From me, Darien IL
(Children by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.) ... What the leaves are to the forest, With light and air for food, Ere their sweet and tender juices Have been hardened into wood, - That to the world are children; Through them it feels the glow Of a brighter and sunnier climate Than reaches the trunks below. _________________________________________ **Herein, Longfellow depicts the worth - the true value of children to our world.
What beautiful use of words! ! Beautiful poem! !
I agree with Longfellow's message. May our aging minds remain soft and dynamic, and not become hardened.
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