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Post by Bonobo on Mar 17, 2008 23:50:48 GMT 1
Czesław Miłosz (June 30, 1911 – August 14, 2004) was a Polish poet, prose writer and translator. From 1961 to 1978 he was a professor of Slavic Languages and Literatures at the University of California, Berkeley. In 1980 he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. He is widely considered one of the greatest contemporary Polish poets. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Czes%C5%82aw_Mi%C5%82osz So LittleI said so little. Days were short. Short days. Short nights. Short years. I said so little. I couldn't keep up. My heart grew weary From joy, Despair, Ardor, Hope. The jaws of Leviathan Were closing upon me. Naked, I lay on the shores Of desert islands. The white whale of the world Hauled me down to its pit. And now I don't know What in all that was real.  EsseI looked at that face, dumbfounded. The lights of métro stations flew by; I didn't notice them. What can be done, if our sight lacks absolute power to devour objects ecstatically, in an instant, leaving nothing more than the void of an ideal form, a sign like a hieroglyph simplified from the drawing of an animal or bird? A slightly snub nose, a high brow with sleekly brushed-back hair, the line of the chin - but why isn't the power of sight absolute? - and in a whiteness tinged with pink two sculpted holes, containing a dark, lustrous lava. To absorb that face but to have it simultaneously against the background of all spring boughs, walls, waves, in its weeping, its laughter, moving it back fifteen years, or ahead thirty. To have. It is not even a desire. Like a butterfly, a fish, the stem of a plant, only more mysterious. And so it befell me that after so many attempts at naming the world, I am able only to repeat, harping on one string, the highest, the unique avowal beyond which no power can attain: I am, she is. Shout, blow the trumpets, make thousands-strong marches, leap, rend your clothing, repeating only: is! She got out at Raspail. I was left behind with the immensity of existing things. A sponge, suffering because it cannot saturate itself; a river, suffering because reflections of clouds and trees are not clouds and trees. 
Encounter
We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn. A red wing rose in the darkness. And suddenly a hare ran across the road. One of us pointed to it with his hand. That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive, Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture. O my love, where are they, where are they going The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles. I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.  A Poor Christian Looks at the GhettoBees build around red liver, Ants build around black bone. It has begun: the tearing, the trampling on silks, It has begun: the breaking of glass, wood, copper, nickel, silver, foam Of gypsum, iron sheets, violin strings, trumpets, leaves, balls, crystals. Poof! Phosphorescent fire from yellow walls Engulfs animal and human hair. Bees build around the honeycomb of lungs, Ants build around white bone. Torn is paper, rubber, linen, leather, flax, Fiber, fabrics, cellulose, snakeskin, wire. The roof and the wall collapse in flame and heat seizes the foundations. Now there is only the earth, sandy, trodden down, With one leafless tree. Slowly, boring a tunnel, a guardian mole makes his way, With a small red lamp fastened to his forehead. He touches buried bodies, counts them, pushes on, He distinguishes human ashes by their luminous vapor, The ashes of each man by a different part of the spectrum. Bees build around a red trace. Ants build around the place left by my body. I am afraid, so afraid of the guardian mole. He has swollen eyelids, like a Patriarch Who has sat much in the light of candles Reading the great book of the species. What will I tell him, I, a Jew of the New Testament, Waiting two thousand years for the second coming of Jesus? My broken body will deliver me to his sight And he will count me among the helpers of death: The uncircumcised. Warsaw, 1943  |
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Post by Bonobo on Mar 17, 2008 23:55:57 GMT 1
A Task
In fear and trembling, I think I would fulfill my life
Only if I brought myself to make a public confession
Revealing a sham, my own and of my epoch:
We were permitted to shriek in the tongue of dwarfs and
demons
But pure and generous words were forbidden
Under so stiff a penalty that whoever dared to pronounce one
Considered himself as a lost man.
Account
The history of my stupidity would fill many volumes.
Some would be devoted to acting against consciousness,
Like the flight of a moth which, had it known,
Would have tended nevertheless toward the candle's flame.
Others would deal with ways to silence anxiety,
The little whisper which, thought it is a warning, is ignored.
I would deal separately with satisfaction and pride,
The time when I was among their adherents
Who strut victoriously, unsuspecting.
But all of them would have one subject, desire,
If only my own -- but no, not at all; alas,
I was driven because I wanted to be like others.
I was afraid of what was wild and indecent in me.
The history of my stupidity will not be written.
For one thing, it's late. And the truth is laborious.
Forget
Forget the suffering
You caused others.
Forget the suffering
Others caused you.
The waters run and run,
Springs sparkle and are done,
You walk the earth you are forgetting.
Sometimes you hear a distant refrain.
What does it mean, you ask, who is singing?
A childlike sun grows warm.
A grandson and a great-grandson are born.
You are led by the hand once again.
The names of the rivers remain with you.
How endless those rivers seem!
Your fields lie fallow,
The city towers are not as they were.
You stand at the threshold mute.
In Black Despair
In grayish doubt and black despair,
I drafted hymns to the earth and the air,
pretending to joy, although I lacked it.
The age had made lament redundant.
So here's the question -- who can answer it --
Was he a brave man or a hypocrite?
Lake
Maidenly lake, fathomless lake,
Stay as you were once, overgrown with rushes,
Idling with a reflected cloud, for my sake
Whom your shore no longer touches.
Your girl was always real to me.
Her bones lie in a city by the sea.
Everything occurs too normally.
A unique love simply wears away.
Girl, hey, girl, we repose in an abyss.
The base of a skull, a rib, a pelvis,
Is it you? me? We are more than this.
No clock counts hours and years for us.
How could a creature, ephemeral, eternal,
Measure for me necessity and fate?
You are locked with me in a letter-crystal.
No matter that you're not a living maid.
Late Ripeness
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.
Not Mine
All my life to pretend this world of theirs is mine
And to know such pretending is disgraceful.
But what can I do? Suppose I suddenly screamed
And started to prophesy. No one would hear me.
Their screens and microphones are not for that.
Others like me wander the streets
And talk to themselves. Sleep on benches in parks,
Or on pavements in alleys. For there aren't enough prisons
To lock up all the poor. I smile and keep quiet.
They won't get me now.
To feast with the chosen—that I do well.
On Angels
All was taken away from you: white dresses,
wings, even existence.
Yet I believe you,
messengers.
There, where the world is turned inside out,
a heavy fabric embroidered with stars and beasts,
you stroll, inspecting the trustworthy seems.
Shorts is your stay here:
now and then at a matinal hour, if the sky is clear,
in a melody repeated by a bird,
or in the smell of apples at close of day
when the light makes the orchards magic.
They say somebody has invented you
but to me this does not sound convincing
for the humans invented themselves as well.
The voice -- no doubt it is a valid proof,
as it can belong only to radiant creatures,
weightless and winged (after all, why not?),
girdled with the lightening.
I have heard that voice many a time when asleep
and, what is strange, I understood more or less
an order or an appeal in an unearthly tongue:
day draw near
another one
do what you can.
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Post by Bonobo on Mar 17, 2008 23:58:03 GMT 1
Poet at Seventy
Thus, brother theologian, here you are,
Connoisseur of heavens and abysses,
Year after year perfecting your art,
Choosing bookish wisdom for your mistress,
Only to discover you wander in the dark.
Ai, humiliated to the bone
By tricks that crafty reason plays,
You searched for peace in human homes
But they, like sailboats, glide away,
Their goal and port, alas, unknown.
You sit in taverns drinking wine,
Pleased by the hubbub and the din,
Voices grow loud and then decline
As if played out by a machine
And you accept your quarantine.
On this sad earth no time to grieve,
Love potions every spring are brewing,
Your heart, in magic, finds relief
Though Lenten dirges cut your cooing.
And thus you learn how to forgive.
Voracious, frivolous, and dazed
As if your time were without end
You run around and loudly praise
Theatrum where the flesh pretends
To win the game of nights and days.
In plumes and scales to fly and crawl,
Put on mascara, fluffy dresses,
Attempt to play like beast and fowl,
Forgetting interstellar spaces:
Try, my philosopher, this world.
And all your wisdom came to nothing
Though many years you worked and strived
With only one reward and trophy:
Your happiness to be alive
And sorrow that your life is closing.
Translated by Czeslaw Milosz
A Confession
MY LORD, I loved strawberry jam
And the dark sweetness of a woman's body.
Also well-chilled vodka, herring in olive oil,
Scents, of cinnamon, of cloves.
So what kind of prophet am I? Why should the spirit
Have visited such a man? Many others
Were justly called, and trustworthy.
Who would have trusted me? For they saw
How I empty glasses, throw myself on food,
And glance greedily at the waitress's neck.
Flawed and aware of it. Desiring greatness,
Able to recognize greatness wherever it is,
And yet not quite, only in part, clairvoyant,
I know what was left for smaller men like me:
A feast of brief hopes, a rally of the proud.
A tournament of hunchbacks, literature.
Berkeley, 1985
Translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Robert Hass
How It Should Be in Heaven
How it should be in Heaven I know, for I was there.
By its river. Listening to its birds.
In its season: in summer, shortly after sunrise.
I would get up and run to my thousand works
And the garden was superterrestrial, owned by imagination.
I spent my life composing rhythmical spells
Not quite aware of what was happening to me.
But striving, chasing without cease
A name and a form. I think the movement of blood
Should continue there to be a triumphant one,
Of a higher, I would say, degree. That the smell of gillyflower,
That a nasturtium and a bee and a ladybug
Or their very essence, stronger than here,
Must summon us just the same to a core, to a center
Beyond the labyrinth of things. For how could the mind
Stop its hunt, if from the Infinite
It takes enchantment, avidity, promise?
But where is our, dear to us, mortality?
Where is time that both destroys and save us?
This is too difficult for me. Peace eternal
Could have no mornings and no evenings,
Such a deficiency speaks against it.
And that's too hard a nut for a theologian to crack.
Rome, 1986
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Post by Bonobo on Mar 18, 2008 0:02:10 GMT 1
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Post by puzzler on Apr 2, 2008 2:30:24 GMT 1
Czesław Miłosz (June 30, 1911 – August 14, 2004) was a Polish poet - He was, actually, a Polish-speaking Lithuanian and a virulent Polonophobe. Besides, he is not a great poet at all; it's some, ahem, 'ethnic' critics from America who, grateful for his political 'correctness' and Polonophobia, have spread the news about his alleged eminence. In spite of this and of his having been awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, Milosz's poetry remains what it has always been - dull boring crap.  |
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 2, 2008 17:43:54 GMT 1
He was, actually, a Polish-speaking Lithuanian and a virulent Polonophobe. He was Polish speaking Lithuanian like Mickiewicz. hahaha Yet, most Poles have no problems in acknowledging the Polishness of Mickiewicz. The same with Miłosz. As for Polonophobia, he liked to show it off, indeed, but was he really biased? I attended his lecture at the uni in early 90s and he didn` t display any signs of it. He talked in beautiful Polish about Polish literature etc. If he was a Polonophobe, he wouldn`t have acted so. hahahaha hmm, technically, I can agree with you. I don`t like his unrhymed poetry (I am not fond of such at all). Certainly he isn`t the poet whose collection I would take with me to a desert island, lifelong space trip or exile to Siberia. However, even those less appreciated poets have a few pieces which we consider fascinating. Can you say that there are no poems by Miłosz that you could appreciate? |
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Post by puzzler on Apr 3, 2008 1:46:03 GMT 1
He was, actually, a Polish-speaking Lithuanian and a virulent Polonophobe. He was Polish speaking Lithuanian like Mickiewicz. hahaha Can you say that there are no poems by Miłosz that you could appreciate? - What so funny, mate? Nope, unlike Milosz, Micky was Polish, not Lithuanian (very much like Conrad was Polish, although born in present-day Ukraine), and Lithuania was for him part of Poland, not vice versa. Do you know any Lithuania-separate-from-Poland or Poland-part-of-Lithuania statements by Micky? If so, quote them, please. Or maybe you know anything written by him in Lithuanian? Above all, Micky was an ardent Polish patriot, whereas Milosz was a nasty Polonophobe. Nope, I don't know even one memorable piece by Milosz. His only readable book to me is The Captive Mind. I suspect that few Poles appreciate his poetry and prose and soon he shall be totally forgotten. And rightly so, because his significance for the Polish letters is next to none. |
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Post by falkenberg on Apr 3, 2008 20:24:30 GMT 1
Mliosz have showed the best what can be done with Polish modern versification. From the other hand, he left a intelectual heritage of great importance and it can open one's eyes showing deep hole of postrevolutionary culture (The Land of Ulro). I can't agree with him in all he believed, but he is certainly a voice of consciois observer. We will be forced, I belive, to end chapters on history of Polish literature with his name, what I can see in contemporary Polish poetry, is cathastrophe. And he was thinking of himself as a Pole- believe me. Just short lecture of his works can serve with arguments. His uncle, Ffrancophone poet Oskar Milosz was rather identifying himslef with interbellum Lithuanian state. But maybe someone could point some Milosz "polonophobic" passages? Note, that someone's dislike for People's Republic of Poland makes him rather a Polish patriot than a polonophobe  |
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 3, 2008 21:06:00 GMT 1
Nothing yet. Just grinning. ;D But wait till the last paragraph of my post.. hahaha Hmmm.... I thought that Mickiewicz was a Lithuanian who wrote in Polish but considered Lithuania as an equal part of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. What is more, he believed that Lithuania is a better part of the union, where Western moral corruption, widespread in Poland proper, was still unknown, making it an idyllic place to live in. Such reasoning is present in his greatest production: Pan Tadeusz. But I could be wrong. Now, how would have Mickiewicz behaved if he had lived long enough to see the birth of Lithuanian separatism? Do you think he would still stick to Poland or would he switch to a Lithuanian side? Don`t you understand that if Mickiewicz had lived in 20th century, he would have acted like Miłosz? Nope. Nope. Do you know anything by Miłosz in Lithuanian? No need to answer, I can do it: NOPE. ;D You still haven`t proved your accusations. What are the examples of his Polonophobia? Besides, if for you Polish patriotism means forcing Lithuanians to be a part of Poland against their will, count me out. Hmmm.... I will soon return to this topic. Today a bit obsolete, but in times when most Polish intellectuals cooperated with the communist regime it was a revelation. Miłosz didn`t cooperate, he was always against communist totalitarianism. Not so fast. He has already earned his place in the pantheon of Polish poets and Noble Prize Winners, his portrait hangs on the wall of the Polish language classroom, students do his poems, etc. It is still another problem that people, especially students, don`t appreciate any poetry. It is funny that you are repeating the same slander that communists always used to blacken Miłosz in 1950s- namely, that he wasn`t Polish, hated Poland, worth little etc etc. Don`t you think it is funny? |
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 3, 2008 21:18:31 GMT 1
An entry on Miłosz from a Lithuanian site:
Česlovas Milošas (lenk. Czesław Miłosz; 1911 m. birželio 30 d. Šeteniuose – 2004 m. rugpjūčio 14 d. Krokuvoje) – lenkų rašytojas, poetas, literatūros mokslininkas. 1953 m. apdovanotas Europos literatūros premija „Prix Littéraire Européen“. 1980 m. tapo Nobelio literatūros premijos laureatu.
Lenkų means Polish.
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Post by puzzler on Apr 4, 2008 0:26:25 GMT 1
re: Nothing yet. Just grinning. ;D - I hope it's not in accordance wth the Polish saying: Duren zawsze usmechniety (the idiot always grins) ? re: I thought that Mickiewicz was a Lithuanian who wrote in Polish - But on what factual basis did you think so? Give me even one quote from Micky where he calls himself Lithuanian meaning that he isn't Polish. Conversely, Milosz, as far as I know, called himself Lithuanian, meaning he wasn't Polish. I think Professor Majda (?) writes about it in his book on Milosz. re: he believed that Lithuania is a better part of the union, where Western moral corruption, widespread in Poland proper, was still unknown ... Such reasoning is present in his greatest production: Pan Tadeusz. - Specifically where in Pan Tadeusz is present this alleged reasoning? re: But I could be wrong. - You mean you don't know for sure? Never read Pan Tadeusz? re: Now, how would have Mickiewicz behaved if he had lived long enough to see the birth of Lithuanian separatism? Do you think he would still stick to Poland or would he switch to a Lithuanian side? - I suspect that, just as many other good Poles (e.g. Pilsudski), he would have chosen his own country - Poland. re: Don`t you understand that if Mickiewicz had lived in 20th century, he would have acted like Miłosz? - Nope, I don't understand that. Please, kindly enlighten me, so I can get it. How would you prove Mickiewicz would have been a vicious Polonophobe like Milosz? Give me facts. re: You still haven`t proved your accusations. What are the examples of his Polonophobia? - They are numerous. For example, the horrible way he describes II Rzeczpospolita in his introduction to a book, by Hertz, about Jews in Poland. His slanderous poem Campo di Fiori. His contemptuous remarks about the Polish people. re: Besides, if for you Polish patriotism means forcing Lithuanians to be a part of Poland against their will, count me out. - Have I given you any factual reason to suspect me so? What is the reason? Are you trying to brand me, using negative associations? Shall I do the same with you, for instance by wondering whether you are a Nazi buff? re: Today a bit obsolete, but in times when most Polish intellectuals cooperated with the communist regime it was a revelation. Miłosz didn`t cooperate, he was always against communist totalitarianism. - God, how horribly ignorant you are. You seem not to know that Milosz was a Stalinist official, and that to the end of his life he remained leftist. re: Not so fast. He has already earned his place in the pantheon of Polish poets and Noble Prize Winners, his portrait hangs on the wall of the Polish language classroom, students do his poems, etc. - I don't believe that hanging his pic in school can make a great poet out of him. See, the communists used to do the same stuff with some creeps, but didn't manage to make greats out of them. Ever heard about Stanislaw Ryszard Dobrowolski or Jerzy Putrament? re: It is funny that you are repeating the same slander that communists always used to blacken Miłosz in 1950s- namely, that he wasn`t Polish, hated Poland, worth little etc etc. - Am I repeating some slander? So you regard as slander the fact that Milosz was Lithuanian, hated Poland (he actually literally said so somewhere) and is a mediocre overadvertised poet? Please, prove it's all slanderous. And please give names of and quotes from those communists who allegedly said the same stuff about Milosz as I have. And if they indeed said so, and if what they said was true,why should it be funny and diminishing to me? How about yourself? You seem to believe Pan Tadeusz is Mickiewicz's 'greatest production.' Now I knew a few commies who said exactly the same thing. Does it diminish you in any way, hombre? |
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 4, 2008 12:16:38 GMT 1
For example, the horrible way he describes II Rzeczpospolita in his introduction to a book, by Hertz, about Jews in Poland. His slanderous poem Campo di Fiori. His contemptuous remarks about the Polish people. Thank you for mentioning this poem. I forgot to put it here. Do you know that it it is on the curriculum in Polish high schools? I have just asked a Polish language teacher about it. And there are tens of literary analysis for students on the Internet. Isn`t it wonderful? hahahaha Mi³osz wrote it at Easter time 1943 after he saw merry people having fun on Easter Sunday while Jews were being annihilated in the ghetto nearby. Campo di Fiori In Rome on the Campo di Fiori Baskets of olives and lemons, Cobbles spattered with wine And the wreckage of flowers. Vendors cover the trestles With rose-pink fish; Armfuls of dark grapes Heaped on peach-down. On this same square They burned Giordano Bruno. Henchmen kindled the pyre Close-pressed by the mob. Before the flames had died The taverns were full again, Baskets of olives and lemons Again on the vendors' shoulders. I thought of the Campo dei Fiori
In Warsaw by the sky-carousel
One clear spring evening
To the strains of a carnival tune.
The bright melody drowned
The salvos from the ghetto wall,
And couples were flying
High in the cloudless sky.
At times wind from the burning
Would driff dark kites along
And riders on the carousel
Caught petals in midair.
That same hot wind
Blew open the skirts of the girls
And the crowds were laughing
On that beautiful Warsaw Sunday.
Someone will read as moral
That the people of Rome or Warsaw
Haggle, laugh, make love
As they pass by martyrs' pyres.
Someone else will read
Of the passing of things human,
Of the oblivion
Born before the flames have died.
But that day I thought only
Of the loneliness of the dying,
Of how, when Giordano
Climbed to his burning
There were no words
In any human tongue
To be left for mankind,
Mankind who live on.
Already they were back at their wine
Or peddled their white starfish,
Baskets of olives and lemons
They had shouldered to the fair,
And he already distanced
As if centuries had passed
While they paused just a moment
For his flying in the fire.
Those dying here, the lonely
Forgotten by the world,
Our tongue becomes for them
The language of an ancient planet.
Until, when all is legend
And many years have passed,
On a great Campo dci Fiori
Rage will kindle at a poet's word.
Campo di Fiori
Miłosz Czesław
W Rzymie na Campo di Fiori
Kosze oliwek i cytryn,
Bruk opryskany winem
I odłamkami kwiatów.
Różowe owoce morza
Sypią na stoły przekupnie,
Naręcza ciemnych winogron
Padają na puch brzoskwini.
Tu na tym właśnie placu
Spalono Giordana Bruna,
Kat płomień stosu zażegnął
W kole ciekawej gawiedzi.
A ledwo płomień przygasnął,
Znów pełne były tawerny,
Kosze oliwek i cytryn
Nieśli przekupnie na głowach.
Wspomniałem Campo di Fiori
W Warszawie przy karuzeli,
W pogodny wieczór wiosenny,
Przy dźwiękach skocznej muzyki.
Salwy za murem getta
Głuszyła skoczna melodia
I wzlatywały pary
Wysoko w pogodne niebo.
Czasem wiatr z domów płonących
Przynosił czarne latawce,
Łapali skrawki w powietrzu
Jadący na karuzeli.
Rozwiewał suknie dziewczynom
Ten wiatr od domów płonących,
Śmiały się tłumy wesołe
W czas pięknej warszawskiej niedzieli.
Morał ktoś może wyczyta,
Że lud warszawski czy rzymski
Handluje, bawi się, kocha
Mijając męczeńskie stosy.
Inny ktoś morał wyczyta
O rzeczy ludzkich mijaniu,
O zapomnieniu, co rośnie,
Nim jeszcze płomień przygasnął.
Ja jednak wtedy myślałem
O samotności ginących.
O tym, że kiedy Giordano
Wstępował na rusztowanie,
Nie znalazł w ludzkim języku
Ani jednego wyrazu,
Aby nim ludzkość pożegnać,
Tę ludzkość, która zostaje.
Już biegli wychylać wino,
Sprzedawać białe rozgwiazdy,
Kosze oliwek i cytryn
Nieśli w wesołym gwarze.
I był już od nich odległy,
Jakby minęły wieki,
A oni chwilę czekali
Na jego odlot w pożarze.
I ci ginący, samotni,
Już zapomniani od świata,
Język nasz stał się im obcy
Jak język dawnej planety.
Aż wszystko będzie legendą
I wtedy po wielu latach
Na nowym Campo di Fiori
Bunt wznieci słowo poety.
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 4, 2008 23:13:56 GMT 1
- I hope it's not in accordance wth the Polish saying: Duren zawsze usmechniety (the idiot always grins) ? Is it a way of healing some complex? Does it really help? hahahaha Firstly, he isn`t any professor at all, just a doctor of Polish philology. He used to work at the Jagiellonian University, now he is retired. In 2002 he published a book in which, by means of clever manipulation of quotes, he accuses Miłosz of being anti-Polish. The book caused an uproar among other philologists and Polish language experts. They openly critisized Majda for manipulation and erroneous interpretation of quotes. Some examples of Majda`s obsessive language he used when writing about Miłosz: slanderous books, lordish aversion, malicious insult, smearing valuation, primitive accusations, renegade attacks, historical nonsense. etc You must admit it all shows considerable bias on Majda`s part and makes his book worthless. What is worse, he made other silly things. Majda was vehemently protesting against the burial of Miłosz in the renown church in Kraków. He concocted a letter of protest, signed by many celebrities. Later it turned out that some signatures had been added without the consent of their owners. Sorry, Puzzler, but Majda is too emotional, in result too an unreliable publicist to take his drivel about Miłosz seriously. |
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Post by puzzler on Apr 6, 2008 14:45:42 GMT 1
re: Mi³osz wrote it at Easter time 1943 after he saw merry people having fun on Easter Sunday while Jews were being annihilated in the ghetto nearby. - The whole story about Poles 'having fun' while Jews were being 'annihilated' has been proved to be untrue, by,among others, Mr Bartoszewski, who happens to be an avid Jew-phile. Stating, therefore, that the story is true is lying. Consequently, if you are stating the story is true, who are you? I wonder why do you call this forum 'Polish'? You appear to be a total Polonophobe, mate. One of the captive minds brainwashed by the likes of the Gazeta Wyborcza? PS. Of course, Milosz's Campo di Fiori is a total baloney. Apart from the fact that it's a lacklustre, bad poem, as all of the junk by Milosz. |
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Post by puzzler on Apr 6, 2008 14:59:14 GMT 1
re: Sorry, Puzzler, but Majda is - But does Professor Majda give facts or say things that are untrue about Milosz? If the latter, please give even one example of the alleged lies by Professor Majda. You mention folks who reacted very negatively to Professor Majda's book. They were - at least some of them - so-called leftists or commies, weren't they? I thought you didn't value at all such folks' opinions, but now it appears you do. What does it say about you, mate? Are you a commie-oriented chap who pretends to be an anti-commie? PS. It's kind of interesting you haven't kicked me out yet from this forum on some fake pretext, as guys of your kind - intellectually weak, ignorant, hypocritical and with a low self-esteem- usually do with somebody like me. But I bet you eventually won't be able to tolerate me any longer and you'll just go for it. Right? |
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Post by puzzler on Apr 6, 2008 15:07:57 GMT 1
An entry on Miłosz from a Lithuanian site: Česlovas Milošas (lenk. Czesław Miłosz; 1911 m. birželio 30 d. Šeteniuose – 2004 m. rugpjūčio 14 d. Krokuvoje) – lenkų rašytojas, poetas, literatūros mokslininkas. 1953 m. apdovanotas Europos literatūros premija „Prix Littéraire Européen“. 1980 m. tapo Nobelio literatūros premijos laureatu. Lenkų means Polish. - Well, so the Lithuanian site, as quoted by yourself, states that Mickiewicz was Polish, whereas you assert in one of your posts that 'Mickiewicz was a Lithuanian.' Consequently, you must think that the Lithuanian site are liars, mustn't you? See what a jumble of contradictions your mind is? Shouldn't you attempt to question your convictions and think clearly, or be a more skillful liar? |
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 6, 2008 21:16:28 GMT 1
Give me even one quote from Micky where he calls himself Lithuanian meaning that he isn't Polish. Conversely, Milosz, as far as I know, called himself Lithuanian, meaning he wasn't Polish. I wrote before: Now, how would have Mickiewicz behaved if he had lived long enough to see the birth of Lithuanian separatism? Do you think he would still stick to Poland or would he switch to a Lithuanian side?You probably don`t know that Mickiewicz`s early and later productions were translated into Lithuanian and they greatly contributed to the birth of Lithuanian nationalism and then the separatist movement. Lithuanians read Mickiewicz and started to desire to break up with Polish domination. Do you think that Micky would resist a temptation to lead the awoken Lithuanian nation? Throughout the whole book. My "I could be wrong" was an encouragement for you to prove that I was wrong. However, you seem unable to do it. How could he choose Poland if he was born a Lithuanian? He was Lithuanian by birth and heart, and was only a Polish citizen speaking Polish. Litwo, Ojczyzno moja! - Lithuania - My motherland! First of all, Miłosz wasn`t a vicious Polonophobe. Consequently, I don`t need to give any facts because your thesis is inadequate.  Writing truth about Poles and Jews is polonophobic? How can pure history be polonophobic? Hahahaha you are obviously allowing yourself to get carried away.... Aren`t you really aware that such statements considerably weaken the power of your arguments?? I mean people won`t treat you seriously ;D Well, being leftist doesn`t mean being a communist. Yes, there was a period in his life when he believed in communism, it was before the war and after it, yet in 1951 he realised his mistake and defected to the West. Later, though he remaind leftist, he opposed communism. - Yes, it`s true. However, I mentioned Miłosz`s portrait in reply to your suggestion that he would be fogotten soon. His portrait and his poems will stay in Polish schools and students, then adult Poles, will never forget. Yes, I know those writers. I haven`t read anything by Dobrowolski, a bore, but Putrament wrote a wonderful book for and about boys: Vacation. I read it as a teenagerat some camp. Today I am trying to find it to read again about boys` wonderful adventures..... Slander takes place when you accuse somebody and can`t prove it. You have been doing it in case of Miłosz all the time. Where are some proofs and links? No, YOU must prove that Miłosz was antiPolish. So far you only stated your opinions. Where are the facts? Give us links to sites with his anti-Polish statements. |
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Post by puzzler on Apr 8, 2008 1:40:53 GMT 1
re: No, YOU must prove that Mi³osz was antiPolish - So you can't prove that the statements in question about Milosz (that he is a Polonophobe, bad poet, etc.) are slanderous? You asserted they are. You also can't prove that Professor Majda lies in his book about Milosz? Well, brother, it seems you yourself are a bit of a slanderer, aren't you? Now, I've already given you examples of Milosz's Polonophobia, e.g. his hateful ravings about II Rzeczpospolita in an introduction, in English, to a strongly Polonophobic book. Isn't it enough? Have you got the book by Professor Majda? Have you read it? (If not, by the way, how can you suggest the book contains lies about Milosz?) It seems to me you're a dishonest debater, fond of rhetoric fallacies, pal. |
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Post by puzzler on Apr 8, 2008 2:27:06 GMT 1
re: How could he [Mickiewicz - P.] choose Poland if he was born a Lithuanian? He was Lithuanian by birth and heart, and was only a Polish citizen speaking Polish. Litwo, Ojczyzno moja! - Lithuania - My motherland! - What do you mean by '[h]e was Lithuanian by birth and heart'? He was born in Lithuania, but in a Polish family, and at the time of his birth Lithuania was considered by Poles, and Lithuanians alike, and in fact still was, integral part of Poland, like, say, Mazovia. Mickiewicz means precisely this when he exclaims (in Polish, not in Lithuanian): 'Lithuania, my Fatherland.' It's similar to saying: 'Mazovia my Fatherland.' In 1798, the year of M.s' birth, Lithuania wasn't at the least what it is now. Lithuanian national awareness and separation from Poland, began only in and was encouraged by Russia throughout the 19th century, during the partition of Poland. It's similar as regards the Ukraine. Would you say that Malczewski (author of Ukraine-based 'Maria'), or the great Slowacki, both born in the Ukraine, were Ukrainians? Mickiewicz’s work is the expression of Polish, not Lithuanian, patriotism. Boy, how ignorant you are of Mickiewicz's life and work, as well as of Polish history, and how Orwellian your misinterpretations of these matters are. PS. So even Lithuanians (as quoted by you) think that Mickiewicz was Polish. Are they lying, pal? I asked you this question before, but you haven't replied. Why not? |
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Post by puzzler on Apr 8, 2008 14:28:18 GMT 1
And here's how Polish people appreciate Milosz. The quote comes from a Polish-language website, see: forum.nacjonalista.pl/viewtopic.php?t=2115&start=45'Czy na liscie lektur szkolnych sa poezje (albo proza) Czeslawa Milosza - tego uzywajacego jezyka polskiego Litwina-polonofoba? Czy wmawia sie w uczniow ze Milosz wielkim poeta byl? W rzeczywistosc Milosz to mierny poeta. Zaden z jego wierszy nie zapadl mi w pamiec; ogolne wrazenie z czytania jego poezji jest u mnie zdecydowanie nieprzyjemne - to poczucie nudy i jalowosci. Przyklad Milosza dowodzi ze nawet Nagroda Nobla w dziedzinie literatury nie czyni z miernoty wielkiego pisarza, ani polozenie zwlok zacieklego polonofoba na Skalce nie czyni z niego polonofila czy Polaka. Na przekor wynarodowionym promotorom Milosza, na przekor Michnikowi i jego nienawistnej bandzie, olewajcie Milosza, polskie dziatki.' [Is the poetry (or prose) by Czeslaw Milosz, the Polonophobic Lithuanian writing in Polish, on the list of reguired school readings [in Poland]? Are students being talked into that Milosz is a great poet? In reality, Milosz is a mediocre poet. None of his poems is memorable; the general impression I get from reading his poetry is definitely unpleasant; it's the sense of boredom and pointlessness. Milosz's case proves that even the Nobel Prize for Literature can't change a mediocrity into a great writer nor can burying a Polonophobe in the Skalka Church [in Krakow, where many great Poles are buried] change him into a Polonophile and Pole. In spite of Milosz's ruthless promoters, in spite of Mr Michnik and his hate crew, pass over Milosz, Polish kids.] |
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 8, 2008 21:48:56 GMT 1
- The whole story about Poles 'having fun' while Jews were being 'annihilated' has been proved to be untrue, by,among others, Mr Bartoszewski, who happens to be an avid Jew-phile. Stating, therefore, that the story is true is lying. Some guys vehemently deny that the caroussel was used during the Uprising in the ghetto, others vehemently corroborate. There are Polish witnesses, including Irena Sendler, who claim it was very busy on Easter Sunday. It is called Polish because most matters in it concern Poland. Really? I haven`t noticed it yet. You must possess extraordinary power of perception, after being here for a few days you are able to draw such conclusions... hahahaha Hmm, I wonder what newspaper brainwashed you.... I won`t mention its name, I don`t want to spoil my day.. hahahahaha It isn`t a masterpiece but it deals with a very important issue. Besides, don`t forget, it is taught at Polish lessons in high schools throughout Poland. - But does Professor Majda give facts or say things that are untrue about Milosz? If the latter, please give even one example of the alleged lies by Professor Majda. Not yet. First it is your task to give us some links to Majda`s quotes on Miłosz. After seeing them, I can reply. Without links, everything what you say about doctor Majda and his "dissertation" on Miłosz remains rubbish. How do you know? Genial power of perception again? You thought? ;D It seems you are collecting forums which kick you..... hahahaha Probably they usually do because they are weak. I won`t kick you, because I am strong. Huh! What will you say now?? hahahaha Are you impatient about it? You want to get kicked, score us and leave for another forum? No. We are a young honest chaste forum. You will not score us. We won`t be one of many on your list of kick-out victories! |
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 8, 2008 22:23:55 GMT 1
- What do you mean by '[h]e was Lithuanian by birth and heart'? He was born in Lithuania, but in a Polish family, and at the time of his birth Lithuania was considered by Poles, and Lithuanians alike, and in fact still was, integral part of Poland, like, say, Mazovia. Mickiewicz means precisely this when he exclaims (in Polish, not in Lithuanian): 'Lithuania, my Fatherland.' It's similar to saying: 'Mazovia my Fatherland.' Hmm, maybe. ;D Yet, Lithuania was of more importance than Mazovia. Let me remind you that the Commonwealth consisted of the Crown (Poland proper) and the Great Duchy of Lithuania. They were more or less equal. Ok, you convinced me here. hahahaha I am ignorant but thanks to such great educators as you I have a chance to learn sth. hahahaha An entry on Miłosz from a Lithuanian site: Česlovas Milošas (lenk. Czesław Miłosz; 1911 m. birželio 30 d. Šeteniuose – 2004 m. rugpjūčio 14 d. Krokuvoje) – lenkų rašytojas, poetas, literatūros mokslininkas. 1953 m. apdovanotas Europos literatūros premija „Prix Littéraire Européen“. 1980 m. tapo Nobelio literatūros premijos laureatu. Lenkų means Polish. - Well, so the Lithuanian site, as quoted by yourself, states that Mickiewicz was Polish, whereas you assert in one of your posts that 'Mickiewicz was a Lithuanian.' Consequently, you must think that the Lithuanian site are liars, mustn't you? See what a jumble of contradictions your mind is? Shouldn't you attempt to question your convictions and think clearly, or be a more skillful liar? I can see that emotions are getting an upper hand over your sight. Shouldn`t you think clearly and be a more skillful reader??? hahahahahaha Is my Lithuanian quote about Mickiewicz?  Or is it about Miłosz?? hahahahaha So, eventually, what do modern Lithuanians think about Miłosz? Don`t reply - I will do it - they think he was Polish. Why not? I was waiting for your self-correction of your funny mistake after misreading the names. But I waited in vain. ;D ;D ;D ;D |
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 8, 2008 22:28:59 GMT 1
- So you can't prove that the statements in question about Milosz (that he is a Polonophobe, bad poet, etc.) are slanderous? You asserted they are. You also can't prove that Professor Majda lies in his book about Milosz? I can easily prove it but not yet. I am still waiting for some factual information from you, not mere beating on the same Polonophobia drum. So, Puzzler, a showdown at last! What exactly did doctor Majda accuse Miłosz of? Provide concrete accusations, using quotes from Majda`s book. I am waiting. Hmm, I must suffer from sclerosis. Where exactly did you provide us with such material? So far there were only your highly opinionated posts, and no links, translations or quotes whatsoever. Of course I haven`t and am not going to. Because I don`t believe one mad doctor whose lies on Miłosz have been already seen through as one hideous manipulation. Hmm, this case is very interesting indeed. hahahahahahaha |
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 8, 2008 22:33:12 GMT 1
And here's how Polish people appreciate Milosz. The quote comes from a Polish-language website, see: [Is the poetry (or prose) by Czeslaw Milosz, the Polonophobic Lithuanian writing in Polish, on the list of reguired school readings [in Poland]? Are students being talked into that Milosz is a great poet? In reality, Milosz is a mediocre poet. None of his poems is memorable; the general impression I get from reading his poetry is definitely unpleasant; it's the sense of boredom and pointlessness. Milosz's case proves that even the Nobel Prize for Literature can't change a mediocrity into a great writer nor can burying a Polonophobe in the Skalka Church [in Krakow, where many great Poles are buried] change him into a Polonophile and Pole. In spite of Milosz's ruthless promoters, in spite of Mr Michnik and his hate crew, pass over Milosz, Polish kids.] Hmm... what Poles think about Miłosz.... hmm.... I have continued reading that lovely site, and found another post on Miłosz, a reply to your post. Did you read it already? Mi tam poezja (taksty) Milosza raczej nie przeszkadzaja, a niektore wiersze jak np. "Uczeni" calkiem madre. I don`t mind Miłosz`s poetry (texts). Some poems, e.g.: Scientists," are quite clever. |
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Post by Bonobo on Apr 3, 2010 19:33:59 GMT 1
Lithuania’s tribute to Miłosz
31.03.2010 09:13
The Lithuanian Parliament has declared 2011 the Year of Czesław Miłosz, the Nobel Prize-winning Polish poet who was born in Lithuania.
Next year will mark the centenary of Miłosz’s birth and was the author of The Captive Mind (1953)one of the best-known works on life under communism.
Valentinas Stundys, chairman of the parliamentary commission for education, science and culture, has said that as a poet of world-wide reputation Miłosz deserves to be honoured in the country of his birth with special events focusing on his life and literary output.
The Parliament in Vilnius has asked the government to set up a commission to prepare a programme of the Miłosz Year. The proposed budget for the purpose is around 230, 000 euro.
Czesław Miłosz defected from Poland to the West in 1951. In 1970 he became a U.S. citizen. He received the Nobel Prize in 1980. He died in Krakow in 2004, aged 93. (mk)
www.thenews.pl/culture/artykul128551_lithuanias-tribute-to-milosz.html
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