Post #856539

I'm halfway through The Poetry of Survival : Post-War Poets of Central and Eastern Europe and wanted to share this poem by Miroslav Holub with you. Wings We have a map of the universe for microbes, we have a map of a microbe for the universe. We have a Grand Master of chess made of electronic circuits. But above all we have the ability to sort peas, to cup water in our hands, to seek the right screw under the sofa for hours This gives us wings. (trans. George Theiner) #poetry #books #reading