Nothing Twice
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 or a rock?
Why do we treat the fleeting
day
with so much needless fear and sorrow?
It's in its nature not to
stay
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.
~ Wislawa Szymborska
~
(Poems New and Collected
1957-1997
Translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare
Cavanagh)
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