An ant trampled, and above it clouds.
A trampled ant and above it a column of azure sky.
And in the distance, marking its blue steps,
The Vistula or the Dnieper on its bed of granite.
This is the image reflected in the water:
A city ruined, and above it clouds.
A ruined city and above it a column of azure sky.
And in the distance, stepping over blue thresholds,
The remains of History or the Spring of myth.
A dead field mouse, and beetle gravediggers.
On the footpath, running, a seven-year-old joy.
In the garden a rainbow-colored ball and laughing faces
And the yellow luster of May or April.
This is the image reflected in the water:
A defeated tribe, armored gravediggers.
Along the road, running, a millennial joy,
A field of cornflowers blooming after the fire,
And the silence is blue, everyday, normal.
This is the image reflected in the water.
— Warsaw, 1942–Washington, D.C., 1948
This poem, translated into English for the first time, is included in a new volume of Czesław Miłosz’s work, Poet in the New World. It appears in The Atlantic’s March 2025 print edition.
David Frick is the author of Kith, Kin, and Neighbors.
Robert Hass is the author of seven books of poetry and co-translated several volumes of poetry with Czesław Miłosz.
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