A Contribution to
Statistics
Out of a hundred
people
those who always know
better
-- fifty-two
doubting every step
--
nearly all the rest,
glad to lend a hand
if it
doesn't take too long
-- as high as forty-nine,
always good
because they
can't be otherwise
-- four, well maybe five,
able to admire without
envy
-- eighteen,
suffering
illusions
induced by fleeting youth
-- sixty, give or take a
few,
not to be taken
lightly
-- forty and four,
living in constant
fear
of someone or something
-- seventy-seven,
capable of happiness
--
twenty-something tops,
harmless singly, savage in
crowds
-- half at least,
cruel
when forced by
circumstances
-- better not to know
even ballpark figures,
wise after the fact
--
just a couple more
than wise before it,
taking only things from
life
-- thirty
(I wish I were wrong),
hunched in pain,
no
flashlight in the dark
-- eighty-three
sooner or later,
righteous
-- thirty-five,
which is a lot,
righteous
and
understanding
-- three,
worthy of compassion
--
ninety-nine,
mortal
-- a hundred out
of a hundred.
Thus far this figure still remains unchanged.
~ Wislawa Szymborska ~
(Poems: New and Selected,
trans. by S. Baranczak and C. Cavanagh)
(left button to play, right button
to save)