July 2 marks the 100th anniversary of Wisława Szymborska’s birth

2.07.1923—1.02.2012

An outstanding poet, essayist, and critic whose work is known worldwide. This year, July 2, to be precise, it’s 100 years since Wisława Szymborska was born.

Wisława Szymborska – Polish Nobel Prize winner in the category of literature in1996, founder of the Association of Polish Writers, lady of the Order of the White Eagle, poet, columnist, and essayist. She was born on July 2, 1923, near Poznań. She debuted in 1945 in Dziennik Polski.  She has been associated with Krakow all her life. She also died there on February 1, 2012.

Wisława Szymborska’s poetry addressed existential questions. It is unique and does not easily lend itself to categorization. Szymborska strives to illuminate the most profound problems of human existence, surrounded by the transitoriness of the now and everyday life. She weaves in the machinery of eternity in a momentary experience of the here and now. Her poetry is characterized by a simplified, “personal” language, unlike contemporary language, often with a little twist at the end, with a striking combination of spirituality, ingenuity, and empathy.

Szymborska has published 16 collections of poetry: Dlatego zyjemy (1952), Pytania zadawane sobie (1954), Wolanie do Yeti (1957), Sól (1962), Wiersze wybrane (1964), Poezje wybrane (1967), Sto pociech (1967), Poezje (1970), Wszelki wypadek (1972), Wybór wierszy (1973), Tarsjusz i inne wiersze (1976), Wielka liczba (1976), Poezje wybrane II (1983), Ludzie na moscie (1986). Koniec i poczatek (1993, 1996), Widok z ziarnkiem piasku. 102 wiersze (1996). Wisława Szymborska has also translated French poetry.

Her poems have been translated (and published in book form) in English, German, Swedish, Italian, Danish, Hebrew, Hungarian, Czech, Slovakian, Serbo-Croatian, Romanian, Bulgarian and other languages. They have also been published in many foreign anthologies of Polish poetry.

On this occasion, we remind you of one of the most beautiful poems of the poet.

Nic Dwa Razy (Nothing Twice)

by Wislawa Szymborska

Translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh

Nothing can ever happen twice.
In consequence, the sorry fact is
that we arrive here improvised
and leave without the chance to practice.

Even if there is no one dumber,
if you’re the planet’s biggest dunce,
you can’t repeat the class in summer:
this course is only offered once.

No day copies yesterday,
no two nights will teach what bliss is
in precisely the same way,
with precisely the same kisses.

One day, perhaps some idle tongue
mentions your name by accident:
I feel as if a rose were flung
into the room, all hue and scent.

The next day, though you’re here with me,
I can’t help looking at the clock:
A rose? A rose? What could that be?
Is that a flower of a rock?

Why do we treat the fleeting day
with so much needless fear and sorrow?
It’s in its nature not to say
Today is always gone tomorrow With smiles and kisses, we prefer
to seek accord beneath our star,
although we’re different (we concur)
just as two drops of water are.