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Secular or Eclectic Christian : Catholic 20th Century	About Czeslaw Milosz Timeline (1911 - 2004)
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English version by Robert Hass Original Language Polish	Late Ripeness
Commentary by Ivan M. Granger Themes   Dawn   Garden   King   Sexual Union   Wine   Recommended Books Against Forgetting: Twentieth-Century Poetry of Witness, Edited by Carolyn Forche Bells in Winter, by Czeslaw Milosz / Translated by Lillian Vallee A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry, Edited by Czeslaw Milosz The Collected Poems, by Czeslaw Milosz The Land of Ulro, by Czeslaw Milosz More >>	Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year, I felt a door opening in me and I entered the clarity of early morning. One after another my former lives were departing, like ships, together with their sorrow. And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas assigned to my brush came closer, ready now to be described better than they were before. I was not separated from people, grief and pity joined us. We forget - I kept saying - that we are all children of the King. For where we come from there is no division into Yes and No, into is, was, and will be. We were miserable, we used no more than a hundredth part of the gift we received for our long journey. Moments from yesterday and from centuries ago - a sword blow, the painting of eyelashes before a mirror of polished metal, a lethal musket shot, a caravel staving its hull against a reef - they dwell in us, waiting for a fulfillment. I knew, always, that I would be a worker in the vineyard, as are all men and women living at the same time, whether they are aware of it or not.     -- from New and Collected Poems 1931 - 2001, by Czeslaw Milosz Amazon.com
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Commentary by Ivan M. Granger

A beautiful poem by Czeslaw Milosz. I especially like the first few lines:

I felt a door opening in me and I entered
the clarity of early morning.

Notice how the breaking of the line influences the meaining. It is not written "I felt... / I entered..." separating it into two logical statements. Instead, the first line is "I felt... and I entered." There the line stops, forcing us to stop as well and consider it as a statement complete in itself. And once we enter, we are almost overwhelmed by the next line; it is as if, at that point, all of existence has become "the clarity of early morning."

That sense is further emphasized by the next lines, "One after another my former lives were departing, / like ships, together with their sorrow." Milosz is describing how the weight of one's personal history, the burden of past identity and the actions that seemed to give it reality, all of that is washed away in the flood of that light. Not even washed away; "departing," gently drifting away. Reading that line, I have the sense of those laden ships, not sailing away, but fading out, like gloomy phantoms ever looking backward suddenly caught in the brilliance of dawn.

Ivan M. Granger's original poetry, stories and commentaries are Copyright © 2002 - 2008 by Ivan M. Granger.
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